


President Rodney McKay

by PaleoM



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Reverse Big Bang Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:03:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 48,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7041781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaleoM/pseuds/PaleoM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My response to LJ fanarts_series art entry into ReverseBigBang.  (Thank you for creating such beautiful art)</p><p>The universe is from the SG episode where Sam Carter finds herself in an alternative universe where she was once married to Rodney McKay, billionaire;  When Rodney met Sam Carter, his own ex-wife was already dead, and then he had to say goodbye to her too.  He couldn't shake the guilt and regret that he hadn't fixed the situation while his Sam was still alive, but at least he did fix it.  Landry was gone but Rodney had to become President to achieve it, and now he want's out.  But he can't hand it over to another megalomaniac so he has to find a good person to replace him.  He thinks he has the perfect candidate to replace him, One Colonel John Sheppard, soon to be General.  But he's only read his file, he has yet to meet him....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author Notes: Thanks to Angelus2Hot For creating reversebigbang and all the great work that goes with it, for giving us the chance to stretch our artistic muscles, be they drawing, manipulation of images, or manipulation of the written word.  
> Thanks to fanarts_series for creating such beautiful art the story wrote itself - it just took me whole month to actually get it written down (sorry about that).  
> And thanks to Callie Sullivan who took the time to write a full script for the episode Brainstorm, which gave me all the technical babble I needed to complete the relevant chapters, and remember the iconic declaration’s, which can be found here : http://www.gateworld.net/atlantis/s5/transcripts/516.shtml

**CHAPTER ONE**

He took off his gold rimmed glasses and put them on the bathroom’s marble counter, moving to put in his contact lenses. He hated them but Elizabeth insisted they looked better and made his face appear open, which was important considering honesty had been the main selling point during the campaign that got him here. 

Rodney Mckay, President of the United States of America, straightened his tie in the mirror. He looked at his reflection as his hands smoothed over his expensive suit, ironing out the creases where he’d put his hands in his pockets, a habit Elizabeth was always raising a disapproving eyebrow at. He straightened his spine, lifting his shoulders through the heavy burden that weighed them down and blackened the name of Samantha Carter who had got him into this mess. This mirror moment had become his morning routine, helping him find focus and the resolution to carry on. 

When he walked back into the bedroom he walked over to the window, hands in his pockets again. He sighed heavily. Today would be a long hard day. He always struggled on the anniversary of Sam leaving. He was glad she had managed to get home, but the anniversary of her leaving reminded him that his Sam had died on some unknown date, alone. He had never stopped loving her and no matter how he tried he hadn’t been able to keep the rage he felt at Landry down. It had bubbled to the surface on a daily basis until he’d had to do something about it. Today always brought back the memories of how he got here, and why. 

He’d used the disappearance of Sam Carter #2 to tear Landry down. Implied Sam, the people’s hero, had uncovered a conspiracy and was killed for it. With his skill he was able to leave a trail in systems that were supposedly unbreachable, therefore eliminating any belief in Landry’s cry of “frame up”. He bribed officials to actually hold up the law and follow through on the convictions, thus was the state of the justice system in those days. He’d made the equivalent of a small country with his dot com billionaire company and this campaign didn't even make a dent in it. 

He would have left it there satisfied he’d done his bit by pulling down Landry, giving the people back their freedom just like Sam had wanted. Except, when he looked at those in line to run for the Presidency he only saw clones of Landry, power hungry with dubious morals and not a single one for the good of the people. He looked around for a suitable candidate and found there was no-one he could trust and so, with the ghost of Sam hammering in his ear, he decided the only man he could trust was himself. 

He gave up his dual citizenship and, after some investigating; he hired Doctor Elizabeth Weir as his campaign Manager and ran for office. ‘Honesty is the best policy’, was his slogan and Elizabeth proved her worth and her genius in an area that eluded Rodney on every level, human nature. After the crushing years of Landry, and coupled by the expertise of Elizabeth, Rodney won by a landslide. 

So here he was, in charge of a nation, trying to pretend he wanted this responsibility and trying not to let his panic show, convinced he would do something so terrible that it outweighed anything Landry could have done. That’s how he ended up here, three years into his term, staring out of the White House windows as dawn crept across the perfect green grass, sparkling off the dew that still hung on the black wrought iron fence along the properties border. It was beautiful, the most prestigious grounds in the country, yet it felt like a prison even now. 

There was a gentle knock at the door, pulling him from his thoughts. He took one more stabilising breath, smoothing down his suit again before picking up his day book on the way, as he moved to open the door to the sympathetic gaze of Lorne, his Chief Bodyguard. 

“Morning, Evan,” Rodney said, as he moved into the corridor to take up his position in this entourage of people who would die for him. Evan had tried to do just that in the first year of his term when the people who still held control tried to kill the man who was giving that power back to the people. 

They’d both survived that attempt, but Garrett hadn't. Rodney hadn't even know the man’s name before he died, but he remembered it every day since. He couldn't comprehend someone giving up their life for him just because he’d won a popularity contest, but Garrett had, and Lorne had tried, so Rodney would not let it be for nothing. He tracked down the man who hired the hitman and took him down, along with anyone he was associated with. He would not let another man die for him, and so he kept a close watch on any he suspected had their own goals in play. Evan’s shoulder wound healed fully, and Rodney gave him the Chief role in his entourage, and found a man he trusted above all others in doing so. 

“Morning, Mr President,” Evan intoned, ever the respectful guard dog in public. Rodney rolled his eyes, he’d given up years ago trying to get people to just call him Rodney. He nodded to the others as he took his position, knowing each of their names, the names of their spouses and children and siblings, the names of everyone they’d leave behind in a heartbeat to protect him. 

He’d tried to acknowledge them by name before but realised it just made them uncomfortable, most people reacted to him as if their God had just walked up to them and called them by name. That level of worship made him as uncomfortable as it seemed to make them. Evan at least saw him as just a man with a title, even though he seemed to respect it more than Rodney did. Maybe that was because Rodney knew the soul of the man who held it before him, the title did not deserve respect, but the man who held it could earn that respect, something Rodney was still trying to achieve, unaware he already had it in spades. 

Chuck fell into position beside him with a greeting, and they all thudded along the corridor, the thick red carpets muffling their tread as they headed to the first meeting of the day with the Department Heads. Chuck, as his assistant, gave him a run-down of the day’s duties and any urgent news that had come in overnight, handing over his itinerary. Rodney took it and put it in the front of his day book, along with all his notes for the day ahead. 

As they entered the meeting room, his entourage split up to cover their positions both inside and outside the room. Evan moved to stand behind him as he took his seat at the head of the table. His Heads of Department greeted him by his title. Hardly anyone called him Rodney anymore. When he’d first come into office, they’d had about fourteen Department Heads and the meetings lasted nearly the whole day. He’d realised that most covered similar areas and so had rearranged the departments. Those that no longer sat at this table reported to the department heads that did, meaning rather than someone just reporting something for the sake of having something to say, only the most important items were discussed. He received copies of all the reports so he could be sure nothing was slipping through the cracks, but with these meetings taking less time, he was able to skim those reports quicker and still have more time for other matters. 

Taking away the prestige of being in the Cabinet had ruffled a few feathers, until people realised it meant they were out of the line of fire. A few of those left still flinched when his eyes wandered past them. He’d investigated everyone on his staff and removed any that had used their position for personal gain. He had monitored those left around the table for a while, but was now confident in their moral fibre to trust them to the positions he had raised them too. Together they had dropped the shackles of Landry’s reign and were on the right path to making America the land of the free again. 

Radek Zelenka was his Vice President, a role that had caused much controversy at first, given his strong accent, but once his American birth had been authenticated and his time abroad spun to show that he was untarnished by the previous Presidency, he was accepted. Radek covered a lot of the foreign visits, more diplomatic than Rodney who was likely to start a war with his direct and honest approach to things. Rodney’s time was better spent unravelling the legacy of Landry, which they had now passed, finally moving onto bettering the freedom and education of America. 

Rodney was hopeful that when he passed the Precedency over at the end of his term, it would be something to be nurtured rather than handled. He was still trying to find someone for that role, all too aware that time was running out. Most of the people he would have chosen had not so mysteriously disappeared during Landry’s reign. He’d managed to find plenty of good people left in politics, but they had weaknesses that could be exploited, or the burden would tear them down. He needed someone with no ties, like himself, no previous loyalties and strong willed enough to carry the load, so far the candidate had eluded him. But their might be one, he’d find out later today and was eager for the meeting to be over so he could find out. 

He looked around his Cabinet. Elizabeth Weir for Secretary of State. If it wasn't for Radek he would have made her Vice President, her diplomacy was unrivalled, but he needed her here for her council on his public image, and her knowledge of human nature. Richard Woolsey was Secretary of Treasury, a pencil pusher of the highest degree, but a magician with numbers and still able to see the overall picture and the needs to achieve it. David Parrish was the Secretary for the Interior, which now covered Agriculture as well, Katie Brown stepping down to report to him rather than sitting at the table herself. Rodney wasn't sure if his decision was based on her seeming too fragile to survive his questioning, or because she looked at him with cow eyes that made him uncomfortable. Either way, the decision was made and Parrish shined in the role. 

Carson Beckett was in charge of Health and Human Services, his Scottish accent still a surprise in the sea of home grown Americans sat at the table, and one of the few who still called him Rodney. Walter Harriman covered Transportation, a nervous man with a love for forms that made Rodney bite his tongue a hundred times a day because he was very good at his role. Paul Davis sat for Homeland Security and Veteran Affairs, a man who cared deeply for his role in aiding his fellow military. Peter Avery sat for Commerce and Labour, a tall pale thin man who looked like he never ate and had never lifted anything heavier than a book, but had a knack for strategy and held the role well. 

Darren Styles held the role of Secretary of Energy, the youngest person in the cabinet, frowned upon because of his age, but given Rodney’s approval because he brought an open, forward thinking mindset to his role. Percy Whiteland stood for Education, a role Rodney would have liked to get his hands on but the Presidency was too time consuming to adopt other roles. Rodney had investigated the candidates for this role most avidly, having next to no respect for his fellow scientists it was hard to find someone who could work well in a team, and have an unbiased view on education. The final candidate, Percy Whiteland, was not a scientist at all but was a Valedictorian in Law from Harvard and had the same mind-set that Rodney had. Education would take America forward in all areas, an investment in education was an investment in their future generation, and together they were pushing America’s youth to a brighter, more knowledgeable future. 

Bonnie Dupree held the role of Attorney General, in charge of the justice system. She had a pink sparkle name and looked like a Barbie doll, an outside image that had fooled many a person in her past, and that meant she’d been overlooked previously. Rodney had found her to be one of the most honest people he knew and also one of the toughest people, standing only 5 foot 4 he was not stupid enough to underestimate her and was thankful he’d found her. She had a purist view of right and wrong, had entered into the Justice System for all the right reasons and had been paramount in assisting him to remove all the rotten apples from power. She had no weakness to exploit and anybody stupid enough to try and bribe or blackmail her had found themselves in a jail within the hour. Still under Martial Law at the beginning of his term, Rodney has used the power Landry had given to himself and those he surrounded himself with to use it against them. Justice in America was getting back on track due to Bonnie Dupree’s fortitude and ideal for a Justice System that served the law, and not the highest bidder. He’d considered her for his replacement initially, but she was too trusting in her fellow man. He knew they couldn't have gotten all the apples, knew there were some of the smarter ones still out there just biding their time. His replacement would have to be on the look-out for attack all the time, waiting for those last few to make their move. 

Lastly, his eyes fell on General Marshall Sumner, the Secretary of Defence. He hadn't done anything bad under the previous term, but he hadn't done anything to stop it either. It wasn't that he was a bad man, in fact he had a good moral compass, but he was too indoctrinated from the Military to follow orders regardless. Rodney hadn't found anyone high enough for the position that was any better, but he had found worse, so he’d left the General in the position having nothing better to replace him with, until now. The General was retiring, a little early because Rodney had insisted during a private meeting, today being the General’s last day in office. Normally he would have named his own replacement but Rodney had stepped in and named the successor, the reason Rodney had insisted Sumner retired was so he could get this successor into the role, where he could assess him properly. 

Rodney hoped he had chosen wisely, but human nature really was a mystery to him. The man looked good on paper, and Rodney hoped he was everything he seemed to be. By putting him in as the replacement for Secretary of Defence, he was hoping he could learn more about the guy and find out if he was, has he hoped, a good candidate to take over as President. Rodney hoped so, to be free of the shackles of office was something Rodney longed for now that America was standing on its own again. He was due to meet the candidate after this meeting, and the anticipation that the man was everything he hoped was turning out to be quite the distraction. 

They went through the business of the day, all Departments now focused on the future instead of the past, improving the daily life of the public who had put their future in Rodney’s hands. They ended the meeting with cake and well wishes for Sumner’s retirement. Rodney presenting him with the proverbial golden watch, along with a set of high end golf clubs. The General seemed pleased, and Rodney enjoyed the cake. That was something he would miss, the White House Chief Chef was a genius with food, so he aimed to experience it as much as he could before his end of term. 

Rodney then left the meeting room, his entourage falling into place behind him, with Chuck at his side once more, as they headed for the Oval Office. As they neared the offices, Rodney saw Colonel John Sheppard in person, stood stiffly in full military uniform with his hat under one arm. 

Chuck’s words drifting away as he took in the man before him. He had seen pictures, and just thought he was a good looking man and that would aid in the polls, nothing beyond that. The photograph had not shown the intelligence lurking in those eyes, eyes that turned from hazel to dark green as his head turned changing the way the light hit them. The photograph had only been a head shot and had not prepared Rodney for how the man held himself, how the uniform hung on him like an Armani suit. Rodney stumbled, bringing his attention back to his surroundings, feeling himself blushing at his clumsiness and the reason for it. 

As he straightened he realised Evan’s hand was on his bicep, probably the one thing that had stopped him falling flat on his face, he automatically looked up into Evan’s face, only to register the smirk on his face and the light dancing in his eyes. Great, Evan realised why he’d stumbled. 

“Get that carpet fixed,” Rodney snapped, his embarrassment bringing out his belligerent side. 

“Consider it already fixed,” Evan said. Rodney didn't know if he was imagining the humour in that remark, and the fact it implied he knew there was nothing wrong with the carpet, or if his paranoia was playing up. They’d carried on walking, just a minor stumble not actually stopping their momentum down the corridor, and as such Rodney found himself face to face with Colonel John Sheppard all too soon. 

“Morning Mr President,” Sheppard intoned respectfully. There was humour in his eyes but it was offset by nerves. Rodney really hoped he wasn't a sycophant he hated sycophants and avoided them at all costs. To think he was about to put one in the cabinet, and worse still a sycophant would not make a good president, which meant Rodney could well be in office for another term. 

“Colonel Sheppard, I’ll be with you shortly,” Rodney said, before beating a hasty retreat to his office so he could prepare himself for the meeting ahead, and stop acting like a schoolboy with a crush on his teacher. 

He walked into his office swearing at Radek and Elizabeth in his head once again. If they’d just take the role he could be done with this, but Elizabeth refused to even entertain the idea of anyone but Rodney, and half the country was still convinced Radek was a communist in hiding given that he’d never lost his childhood accent. Rodney had hoped the country would get over it during his term, but according to polls it was not the case, probably because Radek didn’t actually get that much media time within the US, so the people never realised just how good he was. Not that it mattered anyway, Radek had learned early on in his childhood that leaders were targets and he would avoid the mantle of leader with all the sneaky Czech training he had, which was a lot. 

No, if he wanted someone to relieve him, they would have to be shiny and new enough to dazzle the public, and yet someone Rodney could trust not to misuse the power given to them. John Sheppard definitely covered the shiny aspect, the women would adore him and the men would want to be him with all those medals on his chest. Rodney was also sure he to had the brains to be competent in the role. He had also presumed that to achieve his current station in the military he had to be good with ‘the game’ and Rodney figured he could cross that skill over from military to politics, but it was all secondary information and reading between the lines. 

Rodney thought to watch him closely to see if there was any truth in his assumptions, and to work on him so when the time came he would be willing to take on the mantel. Rodney was hoping his apparent need to protect within the military, could be expanded to protect the nation. He’d planned to watch him closely to see if he was an appropriate candidate, and to spend time with him and mould him for the role of President. Then at last he could leave, go back to his lab and his own life, in the knowledge he had honoured Sam’s last request, to do something to make it alright again. 

He hadn't planned on feeling like a stalker at the thought now he realised how attracted he was to the man, or how his heart raced and his skin flushed at the thought of watching John closely. He’d never had a reaction like that, so instantaneous. He’d literally been bowled over at just one look. He told himself he just needed a little time to get used to how pretty John Sheppard was, that he’d been alone for a while now. 

The world thought he was still in mourning for Sam, and yes he still missed her terribly, but it had more to do with the fact he couldn't bring himself to court someone with the entire world looking on, watching him make a fool of himself. It was bad enough before when people pretended to be attracted to him but were only after his money, and now he had power as well as money. He doubted every eye that turned his way, sure it was more what he had than what he was that attracted them. But, John already had money, and would soon have power, a voice whispered to him in the security of his own mind. Rodney pointedly ignored it, sure that he could spend time with Colonel John Sheppard objectively, if he just remembered to keep it professional. His skin had cooled, now the flush had passed, and his heart had slowed to its normal rate. He composed himself and then asked the bodyguard to go get John Sheppard. 

Then he took a deep breath and waited. 

**Cont/d...**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

Sheppard watched the President of the United States of America stumble, being caught by Lorne, before righting himself and continuing on towards him, John’s heart beating faster the nearer he got. _See, he’s human, just another man, nothing special. Another man with terrific shoulders and blue eyes the colour of the sky. Damn it, shut up. Don’t think about that. Calm, calm. Everything is cool. He’s nearly here, what are you going to say? Hi Rodney, I’ve fancied you since you first ran for President? No, God no! Morning Mr President? Yeah, that’s good, deep breath. Be cool, Be very cool._

John swallowed down his nervousness, “Morning Mr President,” he said, taking in Rodney McKay up close and personal, terrified his attraction was visible on his face, making sure not to make eye contact with Evan Lorne and knowing if he did he’d just blush then and there.

“Colonel Sheppard, I’ll be with you shortly,” McKay announced, before disappearing as quickly as he’d appeared. The contingency with him all falling into place with military precision, no doubt the influence of Lorne’s military past. Evan nodded to one of his fellow bodyguards who followed McKay into the Oval office while Evan led John by his arm to a corner of the room.

“So,” Evan said softly as he leant into John’s space, “Still got that crush on my boss?”

“Evan!” John hissed, looking around frantically, still wishing he’d never confided in Evan Lorne. How was he supposed to know that the ex-co-pilot he’d watched the campaign videos with, while on civilian leave, would one day end up as the President’s Chief Bodyguard. He was convinced life was out to get him.

Evan’s evil laugh filled the room, “Relax, no one heard,” Evan had an ear splitting grin on his face. “Good to see you Sheppard.”

“You too, Lorne,” Sheppard said with a smile. “Even if you are Evil personified.”

“Who, little ‘ole me?” Evan said with mock surprise. Everyone thought Lorne was the cookie cut American boy, so very few got to know the evil humour that twisted through him.  
“Yeah, devil incarnate, that innocent smile doesn’t fool me anymore,” Sheppard said with a smile. He patted Lorne on the shoulder, “I’m glad civilian life worked out for you, it wasn’t fair what they did to you.”

Evan gave him a bittersweet smile. “Yeah, not as good as flying, but he does good things. I’m honoured to protect him. Maybe when his term is over I’ll go back to the Air Force.”  
“He’ll be voted in again, won’t he? Everyone loves him, he’s the best President we’ve had in a long time,” Sheppard said worryingly, America needed McKay. He’d remained in the forces during Landry’s reign, not able to walk away from the best planes on the planet, he’d seen the worst of it and he’d seen how quickly it had all happened. How one man could corrupt so much.

“Sure, sure,” Evan said half-heartedly, “Like you say, everyone loves him, he won’t have a problem being voted in again. I’m just saying when his term is over. Whichever that term is.”

“Okay,” Sheppard said hesitantly, not liking the sad way Lorne looked at the Oval Office. “So, do you have any idea why I’m here?”

Lorne looked back at him sharply, smile wide and a half laugh on his lips, “You don’t know why you’re here?”

John let his confusion show, “No. I got papers three days ago saying be here today. Why does the President want to see me?”

Lorne bit his lip, obviously trying to keep the laughter inside. Sheppard frowned at him, “Okay, now I’m really worried. Give me a heads up or something, anything?”

“What and ruin his surprise?” Evan grinned. “Oh I’m so glad I get to be there.”

“Evan,” Sheppard said warningly, starting to get aggravated now.

Evan shrugged, “Maybe he wants a Secretary to make googly eyes at him,” he said, laughing at his own joke.

“Jesus,” John swore softly, and couldn’t help looking around to make sure no one heard, he couldn’t help smiling at Lorne either, knowing he meant no ill will by it. “I wish to god I’d never told you that. Seriously, promise me you didn’t tell anyone, especially him?”

Before Evan could answer him, a bodyguard put his head around the door, “The President will see you now.” Evan signalled the guy to leave the Oval Office, and take up his normal position while Evan led Sheppard in, his wide grin unnerving Sheppard even more.

McKay was sat at his desk, the room now empty. Lorne moved to a position behind McKay, falling into ease by the window, trying to get that grin under control. Sheppard had moved to a position in front of the desk, like he would with any commanding officer. “Sir,” he said, back straight, looking straight ahead at a point over McKay’s head.  
He could see in his peripheral vision when McKay looked up, he could see the facial expression when Rodney looked disappointed with what he saw. He thought maybe McKay was smart enough not to judge him so quickly like those before him, but maybe he’d been wrong.

“You’re not a sycophant are you?” 

The question confused John so much he brought his eyes down, making eye contact to find McKay was looking back at Evan, who had spluttered a choked down laugh at the question, and was now trying to straighten out that smile once more with a mumbled, “Sorry, Sir.”

When he turned back to Sheppard, there was sadness in his eyes, as if Sheppard had let him down on a personal level. Sheppard looked over at Evan, as if to confirm he’d heard correctly. Evan gave a minute shake of his head. He had an evil humour, but he wouldn’t jeopardise someone’s career just for a laugh. “Er, no Sir. Not the sycophant type, Sir,” Sheppard answered.  
McKay seemed to relax hugely. “Good, good. For a moment there I thought I’d made a huge mistake, which obviously never ever happens, so glad I’m proved right once more. Now, the General retired today, Chucks outside so he’ll show you to your new office.”

“New Office, Sir?” Sheppard asked, totally confused.

“Yes,” Rodney said, sounding exasperated, “Well, it’s not a new office. Just new to you. In fact it’s probably one of the oldest offices in the country come to think of it. Not like Security of Defence is all about the location of the office.”

John swallowed. “My new office belongs to the Security of Defence, Sir?”

“Well, yes. Although, as I said, it’s not exactly a new office….”

“Erm, Sir?”

“hmmm, yes?”

“Could you please tell me what my new orders are Sir?” John asked, a confused note in his tone.

“Well, they’re whatever the Security of Defence normally deals with. His assistant is still the same, she should be able to show you the ropes for a while.”

There was a polite cough from Lorne at that point, one that attracted McKay’s attention, “Mr President, Sir. It seems no-one has yet advised Colonel Sheppard that he is to be the new Security of Defence, Sir.”

The President sighed. “You drain all the fun out of everything and leave joy a withered husk, Lorne, do you know that?”  
“Sorry, Sir,” Evan responded, trying and failing to sound repentant.

“Well, he’s spoilt the surprise now. I was hoping,” Rodney said, with a glare towards Evan, “to see how long before you either figured it out, or stood up for yourself and asked outright. You were almost there, I think.”

John had used their byplay to get his head around the news, or at least try, he wasn’t having much luck because the only thing that made sense, didn’t make any sense at all. “But, Sir. I’m only a Colonel.”

“Oh, not anymore, I’m making you a General……. Surprise,” Rodney added with a deadpan voice and jazz hands. 

“But isn’t the position voluntary, Sir? I don’t remember being asked, and surely there are more worthy candidates, Sir. I just feel…..”

“Actually, that’s the point,” Rodney interrupted. “There aren’t any worthy candidates. There are candidates that are as bad as Landry and would stab me in the back as soon as look at me, or there are candidates like Sumner who did nothing when their country needed them most. Also, I need a candidate I can trust to give me all the options to get the job done, not just the ones that will bathe them in glory. I don’t want an enemy, or a sycophant, or an idiot in my Cabinet, those I can find in their thousands, and I don’t want a yes man, so, I had to think outside the box. I went a tier lower, thinking to promote the right person to the role. There were few that excelled themselves under Landry’s reign and managed to remain in the forces, Col…General. However, they are all unknown entities when it comes to issuing them with power. Well, even Spiderman couldn’t handle it well at first and this person will have America hanging in the balance, not just their grandfather. You turned your back on the power and money that came with your family name, that tells me you can’t be brought by either, and it helps that you are vouched for by someone I think….well, let’s just say I don’t hate him,” Rodney said with a wave towards Evan. 

“Thank you, Sir,” Evan said.

“Just remember what’s said in the Oval, stays in the Oval, Evan, so you can’t tell anyone.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Rodney paused, looking critically at John before sighing. He sat forward in his chair, elbows on the desk. “Look General. Let me dumb this down for you. I’ve read your file, you’re a protector by your very nature, even bordering on suicidal at times. Now you think about where you are in your restricted little universe? You can only do so much, because those above you were raised during Landry’s reign, they think the way they’ve been trained to think and god forbid they have a brand new shiny thought all their own. You’re right, I can put anyone in that role, but I won’t. Whomever I put into that role, I am giving them the joint forces of a nation, a nation that is just coming out of a civil war. I need to know those forces will not be used against me, or any American ever again. I need someone in charge who is brave enough to do the right thing, but smart enough to know when not to do anything. I don’t want a yes man, or some trigger happy moron. I want a brave man with a good moral compass, who will care for this nation's forces and I think you’re it. You joined the Forces to protect this country, and this is the best place to protect it from, at the top of the Military universe. In addition, you are homosexual. I don’t intend to make you the poster boy, don’t misunderstand me. I merely mean that you understand the need to be more open in the military, to have them fighting our enemies and not each other. I won’t have to spend the rest of my term defending that change in regs to you, and I think you’re at least smart enough that I won’t have to monitor every decision you make. Remember why you joined, General and prove to me you’re not just some dumb grunt.”

“I joined to fly too,” John said, just to be belligerent against that last remark.

“Fine, you can fly Air Force One on weekends,” Rodney said with a wave of his hand as he sat back in his chair, clearly frustrated, but a spark of challenge in his eyes drawing John’s attention.  
“You’re really making me a General and Secretary of Defence all in one day?” John asked, still blown away. Rodney’s speech had hit home. If he’d had a commander and crew who hadn’t been afraid of the extreme repercussions under Landry’s reign, then maybe he’d have been able to get to one of the helicopters and rescue Mitch, instead of getting thrown in the brig at the first checkpoint. On the other hand, he only had a misconduct mark in his folder and not an out and out court martial, but he’d swap that misconduct mark for a court martial and Mitch any second of the day without a thought. He couldn’t save Mitch, but Rodney was right, he could save others. 

“What can I say, I’m a very giving man.” Rodney said with a soft smile that seemed to invite John in, like they were sharing a private joke, before turning serious. “Yes, I want you to take this position, I need you to take it. The position is yours for the taking and if you need time to think about that, then you’re not the man I hoped you’d be, but I think you are,” Rodney said sincerely, leaning forward once again. His tones so warm and inviting that John couldn’t help but smile in response.

“Does this have anything to do with General Sumner’s early retirement?”

Rodney suddenly broke out into a wide smile, it lit up his face, and John could feel his heart speeding up, butterflies in his stomach. _God, he’s beautiful when he smiles like that._  
“So there is a brain under that mop of chaos you call a hairstyle, good to finally see proof of it,” Rodney said with obvious joy, before becoming serious. “Yes, General Sumner was asked to retire early so I could give the role to you. It’s not done as a favour that has to be repaid, I did it because although Sumner is a good man he is too tied up in Military tradition. I want…..no, I need, someone who is open to new possibilities. I intend to take this country as far forward as I can during my term, I don’t just want us to be survivors, I want America to thrive and grow and I need our forces to grow with us. I need someone in the role who can be trusted to protect the nation, who will lead the forces with more modesty than ego and the experience under fire to know when to fight and when to hold. In short, I don’t want a trigger happy maniac in charge of one the largest forces in the world, I want you. So, General John Sheppard? For the last time, will you help me, work with me, and accept the role of Security of Defence.?”

General John Sheppard took a deep breath, letting the smile widen. He didn’t know if it was the speech, or the fact Rodney was asking for his help, making it sound like a direct entreaty from one friend to another, but either way, the answer was obvious. “Thank you Sir, I accept.”

“Good,” McKay answered with a happy sigh, visibly relaxing. They stared at each other, both their faces reflecting the joy of the moment. It wasn’t until Evan gave a little cough that John realised how long they’d been staring at each other. McKay immediately shuffled some papers on his desk, coughing to clear his throat before waving at the door without even looking up at John, “That’ll be all General. Chuck is waiting for you outside, he’ll show you through the induction process.”

The warmth that had been suffusing him drained away, leaving him cold. Dismissed, just like that. All the personality and warmth that had been there just switched off and John couldn’t help feeling it was because he’d gotten what he wanted McKay was now done with him. He left the Oval Office and President Rodney McKay behind him as he walked out, wondering what on earth he’d gotten himself into for the sake of a pretty face, and a smile that shone like a thousand suns.

He met Chuck who walked him through the induction and security clearances which took most of the day. Just enough time to organise for his belongings to be sent along, and meet his new assistant, Beverly. Beverly was a striking red head with a sway to her hips that made even John look twice. She asked if he wanted to go and celebrate his promotion, John said he hadn’t got the chance to visit any of the gay clubs in town yet and didn’t want to end up in a disreputable bar considering his new position and advised maybe another time. It did everything in one swoop, got him out of socialising, told her his reputation was important to him and informed her he was gay. The freedom to be able to say it out loud without any repercussions, was so freeing. 

Something John was still getting used to when in the presence of the older military. He’d be loyal to Rodney forever, for that alone. Not only did Rodney repel the order, but the first time someone in the forces made a complaint about being punished for it, he didn’t just settle for slap on the wrist like those in the old days who kept the rules for the sake of the public eye. No, Rodney tracked down every person who had tried to hide the truth of the situation and he drummed them out of the forces. The punishment for any case of mistreatment under the new ruling was punishable by expulsion from the forces and, oh the irony, a spell in Leavenworth. 

He’d also overturned all previous convictions under the same regs and offered them all a return to the forces. Those two instances were the catalyst that gave every homosexual within the forces the confidence to take one step forward. That brave first step alone, only to find it wasn’t the case. They all stepped forward as Homosexuals, and then took one step back as soldiers. The same disciplines for homosexuals were instigated for fairness between sexes. It was either work with or get out and it meant a new mind-set within the Military that was settled into place over the last three years, resulting in a new open minded force, fighting together and not each other. Brothers in Arms became One Soul. They fought as one for their country, now trained to consider anyone in uniform as family, to be protected and respected, regardless of race, gender or sexual preference. 

There were still some that smiled on the surface but held the old beliefs underneath, but they couldn’t do anything under the new regs so one by one they either left or were being removed. It was now at the point where merit counted above all things and John had thrived in the new order, making Colonel, when he thought Major was the highest achievement he would be able to make without drawing attention to himself. General, he was now a General and he couldn’t help the grin that kept surfacing at that. He, General John Sheppard was in charge of all the armed forces of America. The responsibility was daunting, but the pride was butterflies in his stomach. He had served with amazing people and he would do them proud.

Apparently, there was a press conference in the morning so his uniform was taken away to be pressed, and the apparel updated to General. It would be returned to his rooms by the morning. He had rooms in the White House, apparently all the Cabinet members had them for during emergencies, and so that night Colonel John Sheppard went to bed and woke up General John Sheppard, Security of Defence, determined to do right by the people who put their lives on the line for his country.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Lorne knocked on the door, and waited for Rodney to open it. Always “Mr President” in public, but always Rodney in his head, ever since that night, three years ago yesterday.   
He’d spent three years in his service, had taken a bullet in the first year out of duty, because he was trained to do so. Now, he knew The President better, now he knew Rodney. He knew the position most people craved was a curse to Rodney, a sacrifice he made for the people.

Lorne had seen a ferocious and angry person take on the mantle of President and do nothing but good. He’d also seen that same man die a little each day in servitude to his country. When he’d first arrived the President seemed to be driven by anger and Lorne had never discovered the full extent of it. He knew it was directed at Landry and, like everyone did, he knew that Landry had been sentenced for the death of Sam Carter and his part in the ‘Carter Conspiracy’ and that Sam was Rodney’s ex-wife. Doctor Weir had made ‘Justice for Sam’ part of Rodney’s campaign.

He also knew yesterday was the anniversary, because the first year in the White House, Rodney had gotten beyond drunk on that day. Chuck had called Lorne to help put him to bed and Lorne had stayed to watch over him, making sure he didn't die in his sleep through some choking accident, or fall and hit his head in a drunken stumble to the toilet. Rodney hadn't been asleep long when he woke up again and did indeed stumble drunkenly to the toilet. Lorne stayed in his seat in the corner of the room, listening for any loud bangs that might be a body hitting the floor heavily. He didn't hear anything and Rodney came stumbling back out again, but instead of going back to his bed he stumbled over to the window instead, laying his head against the cool glass with a heartfelt groan that made Lorne smile.

Lorne didn't think Rodney had even noticed he was there, until he spoke in a low murmur, heard plainly in the quiet of the room. “I loved her so much. I thought we’d get back together, you know, figured it wasn't really over, it couldn't be. We were like a thunder storm, lethal lightning and flashes so bright you’d have to shut your eyes, like you were looking into a sun going supernova. It was beautiful, and when she walked back into my office I thought ‘this is it, I’ll wake up next to her again’ but it wasn’t her, not really, and she died alone and I didn’t even know. How can I not have felt that, I keep wondering what I was doing the day she died, what useless thing was I so intent on that I didn’t feel the world ending.” 

Silence fell between them, as heavy as an anvil and Lorne was at a loss what to say.

There was a bitter-sweet huff from Rodney, “Aren’t you supposed to say she’s in a better place now?” 

Lorne could hear the anger and challenge underneath the question. He had the distinct feeling that Rodney had been told this before and was ready for a fight if Lorne even suggested it now so he chose another tack, “That’s generally only a comfort if the receiver believes it, in my experience.”

Rodney turned his head, forehead still against the cool window pane, to look at Lorne contemplatively, before drawing his head drunkenly away from the window. “Thank you for not being a condescending prick,” Rodney said, startling a huff of laughter from Lorne. Rodney nodded at him, before he looked back out the window again, his gaze suddenly looked distant as he raised his head to look at the stars, “At least Carter is in a much better place now, safe at last.”

“I got the impression you didn't believe in heaven and hell,” Lorne said, curiosity getting the better of him, considering how contradictory that statement was, and odd to call your wife by her maiden name.

“I don’t,” Rodney said, and staggered back from the window, arms out to stabilise himself. Obviously, looking up at the heavens had disturbed his balance, but Rodney seemed to think it was the drink as he turned and stumbled back to the bed, “Well, pretty sure I won’t try drinking to forget again, it never works, I don’t know why I always think it will.” He crawled across the covers, trying to get himself under them, “Sorry,” Rodney said, seemingly out the blue.

Lorne showed his confusion, sure the apology was directed at him but not sure why, “Sorry?” he asked, hoping Rodney would realise he needed a little clarification.

“Well, for a lot of things actually,” Rodney said, as he tried to get the covers out from underneath him but the dexterity too much in his current state. Lorne moved over to help him and as he helped get The President of the United States into bed, Rodney looked up at him, looking for all the world like a little boy frightened of the dark, “but right now for making a man of your calibre put a grown arse man to bed because he’s too drunk to figure out a duvet. It’s just sometimes this day is all a bit much, you know, I know that’s not a good reason, but sometimes I have no idea how I got here. I just wanted to do the right thing and I could hear Sam in my ear,” he made the puppet movement for talking, lifting his hand to his ear to mimic his words, shaking his head, “and she just wouldn't stop…..

Rodney squirrelled down under the covers, voice turning tired as he continued to talk softly, arms moving to accentuate his words, “and so I did something. I was just taking it one step at a time so I did this and I did that and suddenly I'm here. The whole country looking for me to lead them, to be good for them, and Jesus,” his voice fell to a hushed murmur, but still clear in the quiet of the night as he almost hissed, “I'm just so damn terrified.” 

His voice rose again as an undercurrent of anger threaded through it, dulled by disbelief, “I’m the fucking President for god’s sake, do you have any idea the power I have, the things that could go wrong. It’s terrifying. I shouldn't be in charge of a puppy, let alone a fucking country. What were they thinking for god’s sake, putting me in charge of their future? I don’t…,” he just seem to deflate, collapse in on himself as he continued in a small fragile voice, “……it’s just….it’s all too much sometimes, especially today when all I want to do it curl up and remember how good we were together and I can’t because if I stay in bed the whole damn country would panic.”

He fell silent for a moment and Lorne thought he’d passed out, but then he continued. Voice with an almost gleeful conspiracy to it, “I have a plan though, I'm going to put everything right, and then I'm going to find someone good who can do this job properly, and then I can leave. When everything’s okay I can go back to my labs, where people will call me Rodney again, and I can create something wonderful and if I blow up the lab doing it, well it’s just me, not like I’ll take everyone in the country with me. Just me and my lab,” Rodney mumbled as he drifted off, a small peaceful smile on his lips.

Lorne had swallowed down the emotion and whispered, “You are creating something wonderful, Rodney. I’m sorry it’s not what you want, but you do good things, you are that good man, I hope one day you realise that.” He tucked Rodney into bed, “Night, Rodney,” he said as he walked back over to his chair in silence and sat, watching his President sleep, unable to push aside the fact that Rodney McKay had put his life on hold for a job he didn't even want, was even scared to hold, and from that moment on Lorne would lay down his life for Rodney, not because he had been trained too, but because it was the right thing to do, to protect this great man. He just wished he could do something to help him, but he also knew that sober Rodney McKay would never have trusted him with this, and in all honesty, what could he do, except support Rodney when he could, however he could.

Lorne had left the room in the early hours of the morning, once he was confident that Rodney was safe from dying due to some drunken mishap, but he couldn't forget what he’d learnt that night. After that, he watched closely. He saw Rodney come alive during those rare occasions he was actually alone with the Vice President, Radek Zalenka, who Lorne noted called him Rodney. Often their meetings would divert to science, a love they both shared, and it was like Rodney was possessed by someone else, someone happy.

Lorne didn't know what to do with this new found knowledge, but it pushed him to push the boundaries of their relationship beyond what he normally would have. Rodney was alone and Lorne couldn't do anything about that but he’d inject a little humour where he could, and although he never earned one of those blinding smiles Radek did, he’d get a surprised huff of laughter now and then, but mostly it was just the spark of merriment in his eyes and for those moments Lorne felt like he was helping dispel the perpetual weight of responsibility in the day a little for Rodney. 

They never talked about that night, but since then Rodney seemed to confide in Lorne from time to time, nothing as personal as that night, but a thought process here and there, talk through a decision he was trying to make, and lately he’d even taken to asking Lorne’s opinion when it was just the two of them. That’s when Lorne really understood Rodney’s fear, when he realised if Rodney agreed it would be implemented. His suggestion, or off the hand comment, could influence the entire country. It was a truly daunting prospect.

That’s how Lorne had gotten the chance to influence Rodney in regards to Sheppard. Rodney and Radek had sequestered themselves in a room with laptops and hard copies. They made a good head start, powering through the files initially till they had seven left and then proceeded to pour over them with no movement forward.

Eventually, Rodney had turned to him, “Don’t suppose you know any of these people?” Rodney turned back towards the table, pushing the latest folder away from him as he collapsed back in his chair, obviously grown too despondent to carry on.

“Only Sheppard,” Lorne said with a shrug.

“Really?” Rodney said with sudden enthusiasm as he perked up in his seat, reaching forward for the file, pulling it towards him and opening it, “So? What’s he like?” Rodney asked, seeming oblivious to Radek’s curious glance between them, seeming to find Lorne a lot more interesting now that he noticed Rodney was taking his opinion seriously.  
Lorne didn't know whether he should feel smug or self-conscious, so went with the time honoured tradition of ignoring it completely. “He’d take a bullet for his worst enemy, Sir. He’s a natural born protector, it’s like he can’t help himself. Smart too. He’s a good man, and a damn fine pilot.”

“What do you know about his family? Did he say anything about why he walked away?”

“He never talked about his family, he was a very private man when it came to feelings.”

“What about the money?”

“What money, sir?”

“He’s heir to Sheppard Industries, he never mentioned his mother was a billionaire and then some?”

“No, Sir,” Lorne said, visibly shocked. “I didn't know he was rich, Sir,” Lorne said, feeling a bit betrayed when he thought of their days discussing how to make their wages stretch until the next pay day and all the while he’d been sitting on billion’s.

“He isn't,” Rodney said, contemplating the file more closely, reading a page before handing it over to Radek. “He walked away from it all. There was a rumour his mother had his father killed when he was ten, so she could date someone else without having to pay out on the infidelity clause in their pre-nuptial. Nothing ever proved and she moved from one man to the next. Sheppard left as soon as he was legally of age and joined the Air Force. Apparently he was close with his dad and his relationship with his mother was barely civil after that.”

“He never said anything, but as I said, he’s a very private man,” Lorne said, still reeling from this revelation, wondering how it had never come up in all their time together talking both sober and drunk, when they’d been stationed together, and even after when John visited whilst on furlough. He’d told Lorne about his crush on Rodney, in effect telling him he was gay even when it was still illegal in the forces, Lorne had taken that as a testament to their friendship, that he’d trusted Lorne with something that could land him in prison. He wondered why Sheppard had never mentioned his family history, or links to Sheppard Industries, but given what he had shared, Lorne knew it wasn't a trust issue. Maybe it was still too painful, if the rumours were true his mother had not only got his father killed, for something as trivial as a fling, but had gotten away with it.

Rodney and Radek met each other’s eyes, something unsaid passing between them. They did this a lot, seemingly on the same page in so many things, it was like they were telepathic, at Radek’s subtle nod, Rodney smiled and closed the file, patting a hand on the front as he said, “Meet your new Secretary of Defence, Evan, but you’ll have to keep it under your hat for a while yet.”

“Of course, Sir,” Lorne answered immediately, still reeling from the news his old friend was about to become Secretary of Defence, one of the highest positions in the military.  
Radek had raised a silent eyebrow at Rodney, who responded verbally, “What? It’s so surprising I trust someone other than you and Carson?”

“Ano,” Radek stated. Lorne knew that in contradiction to what it sounded like, Radek had actually said yes, something people learned quickly when he joined the white House, after the initial errors it caused. He should have taken offence that Radek thought him so hard to trust, but he caught a twinkle of humour in his eyes that negated Lorne taking the response personally.  
Rodney responded with a huff of laughter, “You know, it’s responses like that that keep people thinking I made a communist the Vice President.”

Radek smiled good humorously, “And it’s responses like that that make people think you’re a rude and callous human being with the diplomacy skills of a rabid dog.”  
“I do have the diplomacy skills of a rabid dog, does that make you a communist?” Rodney asked.

Lorne was pulled sharply from his memories to the present by the door opening and Rodney joining them in the hallway, “Morning, Evan.”

“Morning Mr President,” Evan responded, curious when Rodney didn't roll his eyes at the honorific, as he had every morning for the last three years. Rodney seemed pre-occupied. It might just be the press conference, Rodney hated those, but Lorne couldn't ask in their current surroundings so had to just consider and evaluate silently as they made their way to the daily meeting.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Rodney stood in front of the mirror going through his morning routine, right up until he realised he was patting down his hair. Instead of looking at himself to provide focus for the battles to come, he was looking at himself critically, looking to see where his faults lay. He huffed at himself in frustration, knowing the reason all too well. _As if John Sheppard would be interested in you. Besides, no distractions, remember? You have a job to do, you hired John….Sheppard, call him Sheppard, you hired Sheppard to do a job, for Carter and for Sam. You have a plan, no distractions. No John Sheppard, even if by some miracle he was attracted to an overweight, nearly bald, bitter old man. No distractions, the plan comes first._

He pointedly stuck to his morning routine, even if he had to concentrate on it a little more than usual. The earlier distractions had made him late, so when Evan knocked on his door he wasn’t ready. He picked up his daybook, taking a deep breath before opening the door and greeting Lorne, already thinking about the day ahead and how to nip this attraction in the bud. He couldn’t have anything interfere with the plan, too much had already been sacrificed for it, put in place for it. He was lost in his own thoughts and arrived at the conference room too quickly. John Sheppard was already waiting, in full uniform. _Just keep it professional. Stick to facts, show him off to the country._

“Morning General,” Rodney greeted, his smile tight as he tried not to be impressed with John Sheppard in uniform.

“Morning Mr President,” John said. His eyes nodded towards the rest of Rodney’s entourage, when his eyes met Lorne’s he raised his hand to rub at his neck, eyes dropping to the carpet as a gentle flush seemed to turn his pointed ears pink. Great, he has a crush on my Chief Bodyguard. Oddly, it seemed to help, knowing John’s attention was elsewhere, like the option had been taken off the table. He relaxed, just enjoying the situation now instead of constantly being aware of how close John’s body was, how damn good he smelt, how his ears reminded Rodney of Spock. _God damn it._

“You ready for this General?”

John shook his head in response, “Not in the slightest. There’s not going to be a lot of this is there?”

Rodney huffed a laugh in surprise, “From time to time yes, but not as much as the rest of the cabinet no. You get off quite lightly.”

“I don’t know how you make it look so easy,” John said, eyeing the podium nervously.

“Elizabeth gives me a talk afterwards listing all the things I did wrong, it’s a massive waste of time and, surprisingly, a good incentive to improve. I'm down to a thirty minute conversation, but she still makes me feel like a misbehaving boy, something even my mother couldn't manage.”

John chortled looking at Rodney in disbelief. Rodney’s seen that look before, it’s not so much disbelief at what he’s saying, it’s more disbelief that he’s human, it always seemed to shock people at first. It made Rodney uncomfortable, like he’s let them down somehow by not being the god like persona they obviously and mistakenly perceived him to be. It made him self-conscious when it happens, so much so that he clams up, can’t bring himself to say anything else. Luckily it’s not long before they are being called to the podium. Rodney took the lead, talking through the prepared speech to the hundred or so lenses all trained on him. He found it best not to think about the millions sitting behind those lenses, if he just thinks of the lenses as the machines they are, all going nowhere, he’d found he’s not so self-conscious and could handle these things without nerves getting the better of him, without self-doubt creeping out.

He’d just introduced John Sheppard when the press conference suddenly went off script, in the form of a hologram appearing on stage with them. A being taller than any other on stage, drowned in robes that seemed to swirl with browns and golds, the surface constantly moving and flickering. A deep heavy cowl caused the beings features to remain within the darkness of the hood. The entourage of bodyguards surround Rodney before he’d had time to assimilate the information, but it didn't take him long and just as the wall of muscle that surrounded him began to edge him off stage he activated his ear mike and whispered, “Alpha Infiltrated,” and then forced his way through them. Not expecting an attack from inside, it was easier that it should have been to break through. “It’s a hologram you idiots, it couldn't hurt me if it wanted too,” he muttered disdainfully as he pushed past them to stand in front of the hologram. Rodney looked up into the dark cowl as the hologram colours of black and golden brown ripple and distort when Rodney knows is interference. It was more than a little disconcerting not to see a face looking back, it made the overall appearance even more like the persona of death, but every eye in the room is trained on him, and this was his house. “What do you want?” Rodney demanded.

“To inform you that I am here to accept your surrender and the servitude of the human race.”

Rodney swallowed down the fear that feels so cold it’s freezing him from the inside out, the nation was watching and if he let the panic show they’d panic in the very streets so instead he laughed, long and loud, so thankful it didn't sound as fake as he knows it is. “Well, good luck with that,” he said with as much smug confidence as he could muster. Facing down this horror with the same false bravado that he faced down his bullies in school.

“Your impudence will make you the first person I kill,” the hologram intoned, voice so heavy and deep it literally reverberated through your bones. Rodney can see how his ancestors became slaves, if it was just his life on the line and he didn't know the technology that made all this possible, he might well fall to his knees too.

“Yeah, good luck with that too,” Rodney said, the knowledge that the hologram couldn't touch him here and now lent confidence to his words. He felt bolstered as John’s gun appeared in his peripheral vision, pointed directly into the cowl, the sound of guns being cocked all around him as all the bodyguards followed his lead. Rodney listened to the voice in his ear, and then turned his full gaze onto the hologram in front of him. “This is the United States of America, and we will never kneel to a false god. There is nothing for you here, except your unconditional surrender, until then you are not welcome and I demand you leave this planet immediately.” As he finished his sentence, the hologram disappeared. Rodney turned to the press, in one smooth movement, “Well, as you can see, something seems to have come up so we’ll have to call an end to this press conference. We’ll obviously be in touch again once we have a better understanding of the situation. Thank you for your time.” Rodney turned and left the stage, his entourage and John followed immediately, all looking a little dazed and trigger happy, their guns still in their hands as they watched their surroundings like startled rabbits. He left behind a room full of shouting reporters, all in the capable hands of the resident PR agent.

Rodney tapped his earpiece again, “Tell me what that was,” he demanded as they all made their way sharply to the Oval room where Radek was already waiting, his laptop open, fingers flying over the keyboard. He was in mid-sentence when they entered, Rodney carrying on their conversation as he made his way to the table, his entourage settling into their usual places around the room, two more than usual on the inside today. John kept at his side all the way to the table as Radek spun the laptop round so the display was visible to them. They stood side by side and looked at the Armada that hovered in space above them. Dread pooled into Rodney’s stomach, he’d just told that guy to get off his planet. He took a deep breath, unable to remove his eyes from the display, “Is it ready?”

He could sense John looking at him, and finally dragged his eyes away from the screen to look at Radek. “Ano,” Radek intoned gravely.

“Is it on here?” Rodney asked, closing down the current display and going back to the desktop.

“Rodney, are you sure. It hasn't been tested yet.”

“I don’t think we've got time for beta testing, Radek.” Rodney walked over to his desk and pushed the chair out the way, kneeling down to push the secret panel in the footwell. It sprung open to reveal the secret compartment. He pulled the machine out of the cubby hole and stood, turning to find the curious gaze of John Sheppard who had been watching his antics. “The desk was a present from the Queen of England during colonial times, the spy network was at its prime during those times and a lot of the furniture and structures of the time held secrets, the White House is full of them, and this desk holds the most discreet of them all. Not even all the President's know of its existence.” He walked as he talked, moving back towards the table as he turned the laptop in his hands and opened it up, putting it on the table as he sat at the sofa. He turned on the laptop and used the camera to scan his iris for access. The screen opened up to show a split screen of an empty room, similar on both sides but with subtle differences. Rodney checked his watch, mumbling to himself, “come on, come on.”

John frowned at the screen. “I presume this is a plan that will deal with the Armada currently looking to decimate this planet? Because I'm pretty sure we’re running out of time here.”

“Yes. Lorne, I need to debrief the Secretary.” Lorne nodded and motioned for the two extra bodyguards who had joined them to leave. As the door closed, Rodney looked up at John, with a quick glance at Lorne before returning his attention to John. “It’s a long story, but for now I can tell you I had forewarning of today. It wasn't definite and they didn't have any time scales, just the possibility. The person who told me also had plans for a planet wide shield, which we have spent the last two years putting into place, we thought we would have more warning but, as you can see, this was somewhat of a surprise to wake up to this morning. We are just lucky the shield is set up, we just need to get approval to switch it on.”

“Approval? From wh…..,” John broke off in shock. “That’s Sam,” he said pointing at the screen, “she’s alive.”

“No, she’s not,” Rodney said softly, the pain still strong enough that he couldn't keep it out of his tones. He pushed it away and carried on, losing himself in the cold hard facts, “That’s Carter from another dimension, and that,” he said as the other screen filled with a sombre face, “is General Hammond.” He turned his attention to the two on screen. “Hello. The Shield is in place, we have an Armada in space with their cannons pointed at us. We need to turn it on twenty minutes ago.”

They both nodded, Hammond speaking first. “You have a go, the new transfer system is in place.” Followed by Carter, “We’re ready here too. Just been waiting for you to dial in. Good Luck, Rodney.”

“Thank you General, Carter.” He looked across the table at Radek, “You have a go, switch it on.”

At John’s disapproving frown, Rodney looked up at him and explained why he needed their permission to proceed. “I developed the technology to bridge dimensions, with Carter’s help,” Rodney added at her continuous coughing. “This enabled us to contact Carter and, after some experimentation, we found General Hammond’s dimension. Three is enough for now, but we hope to increase that with time. With the technology we are able to pool our power. As long as we are not attacked simultaneously, it enables us to triple the power we can put into the shield so we can maintain it indefinitely, even if they take out our power, they cannot shut down the power from the alternative dimensions without having access to them, and as only the four people in this room even know they exist, that’s not very likely. Their power is linked directly into the shield, as ours is with theirs. All we need is to confirm before we turn it on is that neither of our allies are currently under attack and need the power themselves, or experiencing any issues that could bring the whole system down. If any of us encounter anything that requires excessive power, they will have contacted us to pool our power with theirs, now that we are active.” He turned to Radek, “Well?”

Radek looked up, turning the original laptop again to show them the display, “It’s working yes, but one ship was in low orbit when it was activated. We have one enemy ship in the sky, we have sent fighters to intercept.”

“Pull them back,” Rodney said sternly. “They won’t be able to get passed the ship's force field, they’ll be killed and I won’t have them killed with no chance of success, pull them back.” Rodney partially noticed John nodding in response, but continued regardless. “Contact Antarctica, get them to try the drones.”

“We haven’t…,” Radek started.

Rodney interrupted him, “We haven’t got anything that can get through their shields, except this if it works. If the drones don’t work, then we’ll throw everything we have at them, better to die fighting than sitting in their planes on the ground, but I’ll save them if I can.”

Radek nodded, pulling out his phone as he stood and started to pace as he talked. Rodney stood up, standing next to John, eyes on the display as they watched the ships in orbit and the tracking of the one still in low orbit. They watched drones leaving Antarctica, Rodney with a determined expression, ignoring John’s slack jawed expression as he watched the destructive force blow the spaceship apart, but neither rejoiced, knowing all too well what the smaller dots on the screen meant. Five smaller craft had made their way out of the ship before it blew. Rodney prayed the falling debris from the main ship did not cause any casualties, he’d have to send a clean up crew later, but right now he had live aliens with firepower on this side of the shield to worry about, and that took precedence.

“When this is all over, you’re going to sit down and tell me all about it and exactly what other forces are at my control that I don’t know about,” John said, his tones a mix of humour and light admonishment.

“If I’m still here I’ll tell you everything over cookie dough ice cream. But for now I vote we kick some alien arse.” Rodney promised, before turning to Radek. “The ship is destroyed, but there are fighters left, five of them. Set our fighters on them, they should be able to hold their own against them.” Rodney swallowed down the fear that was starting to trickle down his spine. “And they seem to be heading here.”

Rodney turned to Lorne. “Get Radek to safety.”

Lorne couldn't hold back the look of shock on his face as he glanced from Radek to Rodney. “I’ll organise Radek’s safety, but I'm your chief bodyguard, you are always my chief concern. I’ll stay and evacuate with you.”

Rodney paused, wondering how to take this and decided to use the Military approach, given Lorne’s background. “I'm not leaving.”  
“Sir,…” Lorne stated, the stress and disapproval clear in the first syllables of the sentence.

Rodney interrupted him, bringing all his frustration at the situation to the forefront, letting it infuse his words to give them gravity and authority, “I am your Commander in Chief, Lorne. I have given you an order and you will obey it. Chaos is when our enemies will take a chance to bring us down, Radek is the only other person who knows the whole future we have planned and I need someone I can trust to protect him, I trust you. Now leave, they’ll be here soon and I need both of you off the compound before they get here.”

Lorne stood to attention and saluted, an atypical example of the perfect salute, Rodney had never seen him be more sarcastic than at this moment when he said, “Sir, yes Sir.” He took a step and then hesitated, something unspoken passing between him and John, whatever it was some of the tension left his shoulders and he walked easily passed Rodney to grasp Radek by the bicep and lead him to the door. Just before he left through the door he turned back, “Good Luck, Mr….Rodney.”

Rodney nodded back, swallowing down the emotion and praying Lorne and Radek would survive this. When Lorne saved his life he considered it part of his duty, but when he left him behind in the Oval office Rodney felt the respect he had earned and gave it back tenfold, but the situation did not give him time to dwell on it. He followed Lorne to the door, shouting out to the nearest bodyguard, “Initiate evacuation procedures. All civilians to be out of this compound in ten minutes. Bring in anybody with a gun, we’re going to need everyone we can get our hands on.”

The bodyguard nodded and tapped his earpiece, already moving to remove the secretary from the room. Rodney moved back inside to meet John, a look of resignation on his face.  
“Hell of a first day, huh?” John said.

Rodney couldn't help but huff a laugh. “Yeah, I've heard of hitting the ground running, but I don’t think they meant you to hit the ground running with a side arm and dodging ugly aliens.”  
John huffed in laughter in response, before speaking, his serious tones in distinct contrast to his insolent smile. “So, do you have a plan of the White House I can see, and can you give me a quick rundown on those secret tunnels you mentioned, presuming we can access them all.”

Rodney couldn't help the look of confusion on his face, which John must have seen given his response, “The enemy is about to knock down our front door, Rodney. I'm damned if I'm going to stand around here and wait for them. I'm going to put as much damage into their numbers as I can manage between our front gate and you.”

Rodney logically thought it was a waste of time, but he couldn't help the hope that surged up. Maybe he’d be around to eat that ice-cream after all. “Here,” he said as he moved to the far end and bookcase that edged that end of the room. He pulled the books off the shelf and threw them to one side, out of the way, and then reached into the shelf and activated the mechanism he knew was there. Then he grabbed the edges of the frame and pulled, the entire bookcase opened in a wide arc, and as John joined him, pushed it open. Rodney led John to the rear of the bookcase and showed him the large frame mounted to it, showing him the parchment encased within that showed a map of the White House etched in black, showing not only the hallways known to most staff members, but those secret pathways that ran throughout, only known to a select few.

John started studying the map intently.

“These are on the exit of each tunnel, you find yourself in one just find the exit and then you can find your way to the next point you need. They’ll be here in five minutes,” Rodney said, about to elaborate that he meant eta for the alien ships to land on the front lawn, when John turned and nodded, as he drew his weapon and checked it over, still holding it in both hands when he looked up at Rodney.

“Lock the doors, don’t open for anyone but me,” he said as he took a flashlight from his belt and held it is hands, along with his pistol, like a laser sight.

Rodney looked him over, “hang on,” he said as he trotted over to his draw and grabbed a roll of tape, heading back to John. He helped tape the Maglite to the pistol's barrel, keeping it in place while enabling John to hold his pistol normally. Then he stood back, unsure what to say. He wanted to say don’t go, he wanted to say sorry for choosing John out of all those candidates and putting him in this position, he wanted to say so many things but instead he just nodded and watched him walk through the secret tunnel that led from the Oval into the labyrinth. He felt his heart thudding in his chest, he felt the cold trickle down his spine and pool in his stomach, fear and panic settling into his very soul the moment that John disappeared from view, but not for himself. He ran to bolt both doors to the Oval office and then ran back to his desk and got his own revolver, a present from some dignitary he didn't even remember. He loaded it and grabbed a large torch from the wall, where he’d mounted it when he found the tunnel the first time, then he left the Oval office in pursuit of John, through the tunnels.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

John made his way through the tunnels, determination in his every action.  He may not have said the words out loud, but he’d made that promise with every line of his body, a promise to keep Rodney safe, and Lorne had trusted him to do so.  John knew that because Lorne would not have left otherwise.  It wasn’t just his promise though, he’d have done this even without his promise to Lorne.

He hadn’t expected his attraction to Rodney to disappear in his actual presence, but he wasn’t expecting it to grow either.  Rodney was right, he did have protective instincts, and yes he’d put his life on the line if necessary, had done in the past.  Right now his protective instinct was focused down to one man, and he’d take down anyone who was a risk to that.  He didn’t know if it was seeing Rodney stand toe to toe with that hologram with determination, even though his hands were shaking, or if it was when he’d called the fighters back, choosing not to throw their lives away on a slim chance just to protect himself.  Maybe it was the heartbroken sadness in his voice when he’d informed John that he was not looking at Sam, but at Carter from another dimension.  Rodney had clearly loved his Sam, and John couldn’t help but feel a little jealous pang at that, to be loved to that degree was something he’d given up on long ago.

He’d woken this morning with just a little crush on the President, the constant hot and cold reactions making him wonder if he was being played, making him doubt everything he was told.  Within two hours of saying Good Morning Mr President he was saying So Long Rodney, as he left him alone in the Oval office with nothing but John’s own heart.  

He’d been travelling at a brisk trot since he entered the tunnels, and he’d already taken a wrong turn.  Finding himself at another wrong exit he hit the wall in frustration, unable to hold back the short bark of anger.  He was wasting time, he turned back and ran to the intersection, picking up his pace to account for his detours.  As his offshoot tunnel met the main thoroughfare he caught movement to his right and pulled the gun up sharply, his torch immediately lighting up his target, Rodney.  Big scared eyes wide in the torchlight, hair and face marked with the dust of the tunnels, his hand raising to push against his heart, with a gun still in it as those big eyes closed in relief, “Jeez, General.  You scared the hell out of me.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Rodney?!” he shouted in exasperation, even as he reached out and pulled the hand away from Rodney’s chest and pushed it back down by his side, “And will you not point your gun at your head, it makes me nervous.”

“I…erm….,” Rodney shrugged those big shoulders, eyes looking earnest, “Thought I could help?”  The vulnerability disappeared instantly to be taken over by curiosity as he looked down the tunnel John had just exited “What were you doing down there?” he asked, “That leads to the kitchen.”

John froze, wondering if he should admit he’d gotten lost twice in the first two minutes of entering the tunnels, before he could even decide, Rodney figured it out, “You got lost?  Already?  I thought all you military types were taught to find your way in the dark, like boy scouts.”

He wanted to send Rodney back out of harm’s way, at least if John was successful it would be, but Rodney was right, John was wasting precious time getting lost in these catacombs.   “I’m a pilot Rodney.  My directions are usually from the point of view of an eagle, not a tunnel rat.  Look, we’re wasting time here, so you can come along and help me find the right path, but you don’t leave these tunnels, okay?  You don’t step one toe on the red carpet until I say it’s clear, okay?”

Rodney nodded, eyes still impossibly wide, he just nodded.

“Okay, I need to be ground level.”

Rodney nodded and took over the lead through the labyrinth.  John tried to follow their route, but with the twists and turns he could no longer be sure of his way.  Eventually Rodney stopped next to a brass wall, with a spy hole that looked into an elevator shaft.  He pulled on a lever to the right and then pressed the button that called the elevator.  When the lights steadied he looked through a spy hole in the wall and then released the catch and the brass wall slid away to give them access.  “The lever locks the doors from the hallway,” Rodney said as he moved into the red velvet and gold interior, shutting the brass door behind John, “The spy hole ensures it’s empty before you enter from the tunnels,” he said as he took the lift down.  When they reached the ground floor Rodney opened up the rear of the elevator and led them through, pulling the lever up after he closed the door.  He led him through the corridors again, until he reached another door.  

Rodney opened it up and went to lead John through it, before John grabbed him by the bicep, “Whoa, remember what we said, Rodney.  No red carpet for you.”

“There is no red carpet, it’s a storage cupboard,” Rodney said as edged backwards into the cupboard, “See.”

John walked past Rodney and then pointed back at the tunnels.  “Don’t try that with me, Rodney.  Get back in the tunnels.”

Rodney slammed the door to the tunnels shut and turned on John, “Do you know who I am? This is technically my home, you’re actually ordering me around in my own home.”

“I’m protecting you!  I want you to go back in the tunnels so you might survive the aliens on their way here to kill you, specifically you.  I was there Rodney, he said you’d be the first one he kills, well, that’s a lie, I’m going to make sure of that, now get in the tunnels!”

“I’m a genius, you need me out here thinking of things, and what if you need the tunnels again, you’d wander around in them for years before you found your way out again.  They’d be myths and legends about the Ghost of WhiteHouse and it’ll be you, wandering the tunnels.”

Suddenly the door swung open and guns were pointed at them, only to be immediately withdrawn, “Mr. President, sir,” the security detail said in unison.  “We…er…we heard voices from….,” the security guard had obviously decided this line of conversation was too confusing without all the facts and so changed tract, “Can we help you with anything Mr. President?”

Rodney stormed over to the door and, as he said, “Do you mind, this is a private conversation,” he shut the door, slowly but determinedly, in their face.

John couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up at Rodney’s reaction, knew he couldn’t wipe all the evidence away and that his face must surely still hold a smirk that showed the laughter hiding behind it.  It was then the words of the security guard sank in, like lead weights suffocating the bubbles of joy that burst like acid in his stomach.  He’d been calling The President Rodney all morning, it had seemed so natural he hadn’t even realised he’d been doing it, it was a sign of disrespect John had never meant, and a reminder that the President could never be Rodney to him.  He schooled his features, “I’m sorry, Mr President.  Your safety was entrusted to me, I was merely trying to achieve that the best way I could.  I apologise for overstepping the boundaries.”

Rodney looked like he’d been slapped, maybe he hadn’t realised John had been doing it till now.  “You called me….,” Rodney stuttered to a halt, turning back to the door, “Right.  I’m the President of the United States of America, you’re right about that,” his voice deep and monotone so John couldn’t guess at any emotions, but it sounded weary which didn’t make sense.  Rodney turned his head, looking over his shoulder at John with a bitter smile, “and I have a job to do.”  With that Rodney pulled open the door to the hallway where the two security guards still stood and started barking at them, “Aliens are due to land on the premises within the next minute, if they haven’t already.  Do we have any reports in yet?” as he walked determinedly down the hallways, flanked by the bodyguards.

John got the distinct feeling he’d just screwed up, even though he couldn’t quite figure out how.   Yes, he’d been over familiar but he’d apologised, he couldn’t figure out if Rodney was shutting him out because of the slur, or because of the apology.  The fact Rodney hadn’t said anything when John first used his name was a tell, but not one that John was confident enough that he’d call him Rodney here and now in front of the Security Detail.  John himself had been the one to make an issue out of it, and to revert to Mr President.  He just didn’t have the courage to go back on that, so he followed Rodney out of those tunnels, but he followed the President of America out of that closet, wishing they’d never left the tunnels.

Soon their radios were alive with urgent messages of intruders and the thoughts and regrets were wiped from his mind as instinct took over.  He was only half a day into the role, but that didn’t change the fact that he was Secretary of Defence, and all forces took their orders from him without question, only the President could countermand him, so he took control, began issuing orders over his radio, organised the troops he had at his disposal and they started to reduce the alien numbers.  They were also losing men, and somehow the aliens seemed to know where Rodney was, always making their way inexorably towards him no matter the obstacles they put in their path.  He was glad he hadn’t left him alone in them tunnels now, at least here he had a security detail to surround him. 

John decided he couldn’t just wait here for them, listening to men under his command die.  He turned to the security guard next to him, “Keep him safe, I’m heading out to see what I can do from out there.”  The guard nodded in acceptance of his new orders.

John left by the nearest door, while Rodney was in the middle of a rant to Radek on his radio, just before he left he whispered, “So long, Rodney.”  He thought he’d been quiet, just a last bit of sentiment seeping into the moment, nothing to regret, just his way of saying goodbye, but Rodney spun to him as if he’d shouted the words, eyes impossibly wide and full of fear.  John closed the door quickly on that look and left before he changed his mind.

He moved quickly through the halls, attacking from unusual vantage points, holding them back and picking them off one by one.  He almost thought they were winning when he heard the sound of a door breaking, a sharp cut off scream followed by the sound of gunfire and he just ran, heart thumping in his chest so hard he thought it was going to break through, scenarios played in his head and none of them good, he ran heedless of the enemies in the hallways, firing on those who tried to stop him, a killing shot, efficient and quick, running past those he killed with only one goal in mind.  

As he ran into the room he’d left Rodney in, past the splintered wood of the broken door, over the dead bodies piled near the door, he took in the dead Security Detail, Rodney stood with his gun aimed at what had to be the last alien in the building, firing the pistol again and again as his head was turned away, eyes closed.  The only sounds in the room were the click of the empty chamber, and the heavy breathing of the alien as he raised his gun with a vicious smile.  John started firing as he advanced on the alien, he fired and kept on firing, all his fears, all of his focus on ending this, even when the alien was on the ground he kept firing, unable to let the focus go, unable to face the fear that he was almost too late.

“John!  John!” finally Rodney’s voice pierced the bubble he was in, at the same time he realised Rodney was calling his name, he realised that Rodney’s hands were on his arm, and he realised the mess on the floor that had once been humanoid.   He stopped firing and lowered his arm to Rodney’s whispered, “it’s dead.  You can stop, its dead now.”

John swallowed, feeling acid in his throat as he did so, nodding to Rodney, telling him without words that he knew, that he’d stop.  A sound at the door had both of them bringing up their guns, even though Rodney’s was empty.  Seeing more security there, John dropped his gun, “How many are left?” he asked, pleased his voice carried only authority and none of the other emotions he was feeling.  He just wanted to fall onto his knees in relief that Rodney was alive, but he had to make sure it remained that way.

“There’s a only a few left, Sir.  We’re nearly done.”

“Okay, is it safe to move the President?” he asked.  The guard nodded to him and got on his ear mic to ask for locations of everyone.

“It will be in a few minutes, Sir, Mr President.  We just have to check the hallways to make sure we haven’t missed anyone, are we returning to the Oval or exiting the White House, Sir?”

John turned to Rodney, not sure what the plan was, “What’s happening with the Armada?”

Rodney blinked at him for a moment, then seemed to focus, “Still outside the force field.  Radek’s working on the hologram, we should be in the Oval for that.”

John nodded to the guard, making sure he understood they would be heading to the Oval, when he got a nod in response he turned back to Rodney.  “I thought you were able to block the hologram?”

Rodney’s smirk turned sly and knowing, predatory even, when he responded, “We’ve been working on our own.  Radek’s been finalising the coding since he left.  I’m about to make a house call.”

John could feel the smile spreading over his face.  To play them at their own game, to make them think they were matched in technology, it would theoretically even the playing field and make them think twice, it was brilliant.  It was even better to see it.  Rodney stood on the seal of the Oval office in his suit and paisley tie, and that shouldn’t be intimidating, but it was.  

The smugness he held at bay was released in full force, with sarcasm and vitriol and not one ounce of doubt in his countenance, his voice steady and forceful throughout the entire speech.  He didn’t threaten, he just told them they were wasting their time, that everyone he’d sent through on this side of the shield was dead, thanked them for the fighters they left on his lawn like an honorific gift, he explained they were a fully sufficient planet and could sustain themselves indefinitely.  They didn’t travel to other planets, because other planets didn’t have anything they wanted.  He told them they were welcome to float in space and look through the force field like beggar children at the window begging for food, but there would not be any more communication as they had nothing that Rodney wanted.

He didn’t make it a challenge, he made it sound like they’d be perceived as desperate beggars if they hung around.  Then he turned off the hologram and left their ship, like their answer didn’t matter.  It was the biggest bluff John had ever seen, and by god it worked.  The ships went into hyper drive within the hour Rodney stepped off their ships.  It was over.  Thank god it was over.

Rodney went into a press conference and the world sighed in relief along with John, and they all looked to Rodney as the leader he had become.  In that one moment, the entire world was willing to put their lives, and the lives of everyone they loved, in this man’s hands, from that moment on Rodney McKay was beloved by all, including John.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

John hadn’t seen Rodney since the alien incursion, busy getting to know what forces he had at his disposal and visiting sites that housed the power to run the force field.  Meetings as well, with crusty old Generals who looked at him with contempt above toothy fake smiles.

There were a few good men who he thought could see the direction the winds were taking them and either agreed or were able to adapt.  Most though left him wondering if he could wait for them to retire or if he’d have to intervene like Rodney did with Sumner.

John understood now what Rodney had been trying to tell him.  These old dogs, although respected for their previous commitment, looked on change as an insult to the previous guard, a way of saying they’d been doing it wrong and they took it like a personal insult, the insult doubled when told by some whippersnapper who should have been drummed out of the forces for his proclivities.

His actions in the White House had been made public, thanks to Rodney, and he was sure it had smoothed the way with most.  The worst was a General Everett whom John had respected by reputation and had hoped to work with but as a close friend of Sumner's, something he made a point of saying, he had to know Sumner had been asked to retire to make room for John.  It certainly explained the gruff greeting he’d received, and he didn’t think they’d be working together anytime soon and consoled himself that there was nothing he could have done to change the Colonel’s preconceived views.

He was back in the White House on the fourth day, due to join the morning briefing.  It would be the first time he’d seen Rodney since the alien incursion, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that to be honest.  He’d told himself he’d call him Rodney when he next saw him and see if it was welcome or not, but surrounded by everyone else calling him Mr President, he followed suit and hated himself for not being brave enough. 

He didn’t really have anything to report on, given he was still discovering his role and had yet to find out how everything worked, but his secretary had given him the outstanding issues from the previous week’s meeting and so he sat, nervous for his turn, intrigued by his situation.  He was in a meeting with the heads of state, it was a little surreal but he was slowly getting used to his position and being surrounded by some of the most powerful people in the country, but being in the White House always reminded him of his roots, convinced someone was going to suddenly point at him and ask how he got in.  It was an intimidating place, led by an intimidating man.  He hated the thought that he’d let Rodney down, that he’d look like a fool to him, so nervous he nearly missed his turn but he got through it okay, making a note to take the time to meet Davis properly, given their roles sometimes intertwined.

Having got past the point he’d been dreading without issue he started to relax, and took a look at his itinerary to see what the day held, and choked on the water he’d just taken a sip off.  He read the entry again as he coughed to clear his throat.   _ Science Presentation by Dr. Tunney, to be accompanied by President McKay. _  He fell back in his seat, only to realise people looking at him with a worried frown.  He nodded to them, showing them silently that he was okay as he took another sip of his water to prove his point, and to quench his now dry throat.    _ Well, that was embarrassing. _

_ Just remember to call him Mr President, _ he thought to himself, now sure that he should try to step back and keep it professional no matter his earlier thoughts.  Sure he wanted to be closer to Rodney, but for all the wrong reasons and he really needed to be more professional until he got this little crush under control.  He figured he’d call him Rodney on his first year’s anniversary of something, any time but right now.  Rodney in his thoughts naturally brought him to his attention and he looked over at Rodney out of the corner of his eye, to find Rodney was looking at him in confusion.   _ Probably trying to remember who you are?  _ John thought snidely to himself, still having an issue with McKay’s hot and cold nature.

He gave him a tight smile and then concentrated on the current speaker with all his focus, trying to ignore McKay, but he still noticed when Rodney averted his gaze, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it but he did find it easier to calm down, but couldn’t stop thinking about the day ahead.   When the meeting was over everyone left, except Rodney. 

So, eventually the meeting closed.  Everyone collected their things and filed out as Rodney turned to John, effectively making it impossible for John to just get up and leave.  “Erm, you’ve seen the itinerary for today?” Rodney asked.

“Yes,” John agreed with a smile, feigning a relaxed attitude.  “We’re going to a science presentation?” he questioned, still not sure why he had been scheduled to attend.

“Yes,” Rodney confirmed.  “It’s a presentation on creating a new fuel friendly power source, if it succeeds we can use it to fuel the earth shield, and we can share it with our counterparts, to ensure a more sustainable power source for the planet's defence,” he said all this with authority and confidence that seemed to escape him the second he finished the sentence, “However, there is, well, a slight issue.  Turney, well, most scientists actually, have developed a deep mistrust of the military, given that any ideas they created of any substance, were taken from them without any compensation.  Hence, the, erm…..well, that is to say….the embargo, for want of a better word, on any military attendance.”  Rodney was now focused on his paperwork, shuffling the paperwork into a neat little stack.

John frowned, “So, how did I get an invite?”

“Er, well, you didn’t, technically.  You’re well, you’re my plus one.”

“Your plus one?” John clarified.

“Yes,” Rodney said, glancing at john and then back at his stack of papers, which looked as neat as they were going to get to John.  “I think, given that you are now in charge of the project, that you should have a say in the power source and so would benefit from your attendance.”

“But I was pretty publicly made Security of Defence, I don’t think I’m going to be able to sneak in if there is a ban on military personnel.”

“Majority of scientists aren’t interested in the world outside their bubbles, save for investors that allow them to continue their work.  I’ve been given an invite more on my scientific contributions in the past than the fact I am the President.  As long as you are not in uniform, most will not even realise who you are.  Those that do, well you’re my plus one, not like they can actually refuse you entry.”

“So, when you say your plus one?”  John asked, hoping to god Rodney wasn’t going to make him say it.

“Well, it would only be for the afternoon, not like we have to make any public displays or anything.  But you get access, and they can’t refuse you should anyone point out you are actually military.  I thought it was quite clever actually, Lorne surprised me.”

“Lorne suggested it,” John growled, as he threw a glare at the silent sentinel stood behind Rodney, who was pointedly looking at the far wall.   _ I’m gonna kill that little, that…..that….grrrrr _ .  “Well, it sounds stupid to me, as if anyone is going to believe that I’m your plus one,” John said petulantly.

He watched Lorne roll his eyes, but he still avoided looking at John.  He was on the verge of getting up and making him when Rodney spoke, the vulnerability in his tones pulling John’s attention back to him like a magnet.

“Oh,” Rodney said as if he’d been slapped.  “Well, I suppose I could just report back to you afterwards, I just thought, you know, that you’d prefer to see it for yourself, but if you feel that way, it’s no bother.”

“Well, I mean everyone knows you’re straight.  You were rather famously married to a woman,” John said, trying to sound casual and not bitter.

Rodney frowned, “Well, yes, the public believe that but the scientific community has known me since my college days.  They must all know by now that I’m bisexual.  Not as if I hid it, even during Landry’s reign, which is probably why I didn’t get all the military contracts I should have.  Small minded military mindset, talk about shooting yourself in the foot.”

John huffed a laugh, “So, plus one does actually have merit then,” he asked with a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his lips.

Rodney’s ears turned pink, “Erm, yes, but you’d have to lose the uniform.  You have an evening suit, right?” Rodney asked, a frown spreading over his features.

“Yes, how are we getting there?  There wasn’t a location in my itinerary”

“Air Force One, we get the coordinates in an hour, apparently the location is secret.  Everyone else is being flown in by a fleet of private planes.  Of course my security wasn’t about to let that fly, erm…well, you know what I mean, anyway, so they secured the location an hour before departure.  All I know is it’s in a two hour radius of my front lawn.”

John couldn’t help the excitement in his voice, “Air Force One?  I don’t suppose I’ll be able to fly it.”

“God, No,” Rodney said with such acridity and assuredness that John knew there wasn’t even a possibility.  His disappointment must have been obvious because Rodney immediately added, “Well, not with me on board anyway.  The security just wouldn’t allow it.  Maybe you can talk them into it another time.”

“Okay, So, I…what….meet you on the front lawn in an hour?”

Rodney nodded, “Pretty much, yeah.  There’s an information pack that expands on his theories and gives us a bit more background.  Apparently, we aren’t allowed to read it until half an hour into the flight.  Tunney’s an idiot, a stage magician who pretends he’s a scientist, but if the initial release has any merit at all then it’s worth a visit to see if he’s finally had a worthwhile idea of his own.”

John could hear the underlying anger growing the more Rodney spoke, “You…er…you’ve met him before then?”

“Yeah, in college.  He put forth an idea of his thesis just before I was about to announce the same.  He stole the idea off me, but I could never prove it.  When I became President I tried to have him incarcerated for theft but Elizabeth wouldn’t let me.  I wish this presentation was being held by someone else, hell anyone else, but sadly it isn’t.”

John couldn’t help but smile, Rodney just sounded so petulant at the end there, like Elizabeth was telling him he couldn’t stay up late to watch a movie, instead of using his newfound power to persecute an old enemy.  “Well, I best go check on my office and then go and get changed.  I’ll see you on the front lawn in an hour, then?”

Rodney waved him off, “Yeah, see you in an hour.”

John left, calling by his office for any updates and messages, ensuring his secretary knew he would be reachable on Air Force One should anything urgent arise.  Then went to his rooms and pulled out his suit, pressed for him along with his entire luggage when it was unpacked, a perk of having your luggage unpacked by the impeccable staff of the White House.

He took a quick refreshing shower and then changed.  He stood in front of the mirror, pulling at the open white shirt, trying to get the collar to sit just so, when he realised what he was doing.  He’d been looking at himself critically, too skinny, he’d aged well but he wasn’t a young man anymore, while he tried to make the collar sit just right, trying to look as good as he could with what he had.

He now realised that as soon as Rodney had told him that he was bisexual, he’d immediately changed his mind set, as if Rodney was just some normal everyday man, and not The President, as if Rodney would automatically be attracted to him just because he swung that way.  He pursed his lips at his reflection, eyes turning wistful.   _ Nice dream, but you’re supposed to be keeping it real,  _ he admonished himself.  

_ But why should it just be a dream _ , the thought appeared, and his expression turned thoughtful as he thought back to his encounters with Rodney.  The stumble the first time Rodney’s blue eyes touched him, the slight blush, the worry in Rodney’s eyes for John when he stepped into the tunnels, the fear in his eyes for John during the alien attack.  They could all be passed off as nothing more than empathy and sympathy in another human being, something John had done, his expression turned calculating,  _ but what if. _

He had the perfect opportunity today.  He was to be Rodney’s plus one, instead of keeping it professional as he intended, why not push a little here and there and study the results, see if he had a chance.   _ A chance with Rodney _ , the thought made his heart beat faster, and his reflection smiled back, a light of challenge in his eyes.  He checked his watch, it was time to move.  His hand hovered over his sidearm, but he negated the thought in the end, reasoning that Rodney’s security detail would not let him go if it wasn’t safe, they were scientists after all, how dangerous could it get.

So, he put his gun away in the room safe instead, gave himself one more quick study and then left the rooms and made his way to the landing pad where he found Rodney had already boarded.  He was led onto the plane and led straight to Rodney, the steward falling away as she indicated the door to a side office.

Instead of concentrating on not giving himself away, and instead of letting his eyes avoid Rodney least they fall obviously to those biceps, he kept his gaze on Rodney’s face as he approached.  Rodney was seated in an office with a large desk in front of the seal of office.  He wasn’t sat at the desk, instead  seated in a window seat, facing another seat across a large table, the single chairs large and sumptuous white leather.  As he neared the table Rodney looked up at the sound of his footfalls, his eyes scanning the length of John’s body as he took in the suit.  His eyes looked admiring but at what John couldn’t be sure, was it the suit or him.  John took a seat opposite, with a lazy grin, just as the engine started up, “Just in time.”

“Yes, we’re still going to be late though,” Rodney said, seemingly distracted until the underlying anger burst free.  “Tunney gave us false information, he says it was a typo.  I don’t know if he did it on purpose or because he’s an idiot, but I’m pretty sure it’s the former, ensuring I arrive late to try and embarrass me.”

“Really?  You think he’d be that petty?” John asked, doubtful someone would piss off the President they invited to their presentation on purpose.

“Oh please, all scientists are that petty.  If you can’t take a pound of flesh then just take it a morsel at a time, that’s how we roll.  Getting through university alive and with all your proofs still in your own name is tantamount to Harry Potter surviving Hogwarts.”

_ That’s how we roll _ , coming out of Rodney’s mouth put an image in his mind of a load of geeky scientists in white lab coats hanging out of a 4x4, gangster style.  The image bringing a guffaw of laughter that he could not hold back, earning a glare from Rodney.  It was supposed to subdue him, but Rodney’s blue eyes, focused and alight with challenge did anything but subdue him, it made his blood run and he could feel his heart thumping so hard he was sure the vein in his neck must be visibly jumping.  It kept him quiet till he got himself under control.

Meanwhile, Rodney had ripped into the welcome packs on the table in front of them.  John laid his hand over Rodney’s, satisfied that Rodney froze in mid rip at his touch, eyes moving from the contents of the welcome pack to fall on John’s hand overlaying his, as if it was the most important thing in the universe.   “I thought we were supposed to wait until half hour into the trip?” John asked, once he was finally sure his voice would not come out breathless.

Rodney’s eyes flashed up to meet John’s, his hand unconsciously slipping from John’s as it revolved in circles, giving the words depth.  “That’s was the deal, but Tunney broke it when he gave us the wrong time zone.  I was going to open it as soon as I found out, but I ……well, thought…….I’d, er, wait for you.”  Rodney had gone from angry to hesitant and then went straight into joyous, “And now you’re here so I can open it.”

Rodney was like a roller coaster, which is why John was having a hard time gauging his responses, he was naturally four emotions in one sentence, which made it hard to pin down what the actual response was to anything John did or said.  He found the body language easier to read, although the hand waving was distracting.  He did however notice that although the tones of Rodney’s voice changed and the delivery of his sentences were erratic, his eyes seldom changed, keeping to only one or two emotions.  He tried to concentrate on them, but then kept getting self-conscious that he was staring into Rodney’s eyes too long and having to look away.

They were both distracted when a steward brought them lunch and drinks, John thought Rodney would have bemoaned about not being able to choose what to eat but he pushed the literature to one side and dug in with gusto.  John realised that the setting was quite romantic, just the two of them eating dinner face to face by the window, flying high above the earth in the most prestigious jet on the planet.  It made him self-conscious to the point that he suddenly found his mind blank of conversation and dug into his meal to find an excuse for his silence, while he wondered where the rest of the staff were and if Rodney normally sat here all alone while he travelled.  It struck him as incredibly sad, the need to make this trip something more than that spurred him on to find a subject and pretty soon they were discussing the merits of Superman vs Batman.

Their plates were taken away as soon as they had finished, no dessert given that it was lunch, but their conversation carried on.  John chose to give himself a brownie point for keeping Rodney’s attention off the science literature and on him.  Eventually, his bladder called for his attention and he had to break the flow of conversation to ask where to go.  He made his way there and back, marvelling at the smoothness of the flight.  When he returned to the table, Rodney’s attention had drifted back to the literature with such concentration that John was sure he’d been forgotten, but soon he realised that Rodney was not so much losing himself in the literature as scanning it with a manic fervour.  “What’s wrong?” John asked, sure something bad was happening, but unable to fathom what could have occurred while he was in the bathroom.

“This,” Rodney said, one of the leaflets crumpling in his hand as he held it out to John like a sword, his voice resonating deep with loathing, “is my sisters work.  No wonder he wanted me to arrive late, too late to call him on this.  He’s a grave robber!  I’ll see he goes into a very deep and dark hole for this!”  Rodney was nearly shouting, red rising in his cheeks from the anger to surged through him.  

Before John could even comment, Rodney’s eyes went wide.  “Oh no.”

“What?  What’s wrong,” John asked, recognising fear when he saw it.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Rodney visibly pushed his emotions down as he put the leaflet back on the table between them, pushing it around so John could read it.  His voice turning into dispassionate lecture tones as he continued, “This is my sister's theory, that we can fuel our energy requirements by obtaining matter from alternative universes, or can fuel our heat into the alternative universe to reduce global warming.  However, her first theory was flawed, I figured out that her first theory would result in an unstable connection causing extreme heat at the point of the vortex, which would affect the weather on our side, maybe both, making a ….a….megastorm if you will.  One that would not dissipate, it would eventually cover the entire planet and would ultimately lead to the destruction of Earth, but not before wiping out all life long before that.   She was working on something that would fix it, give the connection stability and bring in some cooler air to keep the temperature manageable, but as far as I knew, she…..” Rodney swallowed, eyes turning glassy with unshed tears, “died, before she could finish her proof.”   _ God, had the guy lost everyone he ever loved.  Sam, his sister, god knows who else. _

Rodney cleared his throat, “At first I thought Tunney had got his hands on that proof, that although I hadn’t seen it, she had in fact finished it.  But, what if……Jesus…..what if she didn’t, what if it’s not a revised proof he’s using, but the original flawed proof?”  Rodney’s eyes were enough to convince John that the end of the world was indeed nigh.  “We have to stop that presentation.  We were going to be late, I’m pretty sure it’s already started, we just have to hope he hasn’t been stupid enough to actually turn it on during the presentation…..but it’s Tunney, it’s all about the show, the razzle dazzle with him, he’ll be turning it on at some point before the end.  Which means he could turn it on any minute.”  

Rodney got up and went over to the desk at the back of the office, and grabbed the phone. John could see the depth of worry in the way Rodney moved, the short agitated body language.  Rodney used his best Presidential voice on the phone, “Get me an eta for arrival and contact the conference centre.  I need to speak to someone there, I don’t care if it’s just the janitor.  Get me someone at that centre now.”  With that he hung up the phone and started pacing.  

“How long does it take to become critical?” John asked, walking over to the desk to make his own demands on one of the other phones.

“It’s arbitrary.  Too many components, although the fact he decided to put on his show in a desert isn’t exactly going to help, the heat outside…..”  Rodney trailed off, his eyes falling on the air-conditioning unit in the wall, the little tape fluttering silently in the low breeze exiting the grate.  Rodney sighed, lips pursed and shaking his head, “He’s holding it in a desert, but I bet he’s got the conference centre nicely cooled down for all the visitors.   The heat of the vortex, meeting the coldness of the air conditioning, it could literally take minutes to create the storm with the amount of energy coming through.”

John picked up the phone, “Get me the nearest air force base on the line.”  He hung up the phone, waiting for the switchboard to connect the call.  “What happens if we bomb it?”

“We wipe out most of the state and some of the best scientific minds on the planet, and one idiot……but the world might survive.  It might also open the vortex to the point that it cannot be closed and the inevitable would happen anyway.”

“Can you stop it?”  John asked, trying to focus Rodney into problem solving.

“Me?  I haven’t dabbled in science in three years, in case you haven't noticed I’ve been busy running the country.”

“You found the mistake in your sister’s work, so you must have understood it.  You must have a theory on how to stop it.”

“I’d rather we try to stop it getting turned on in the first place,” Rodney said petulantly, “That sounds like an excellent plan to me.” John was stopped in pushing his point further as the phone rang, the one Rodney had used and he flew to it.  “Twenty minutes away,” he whispered to John, as he kept the receiver glued to his ear, “They are trying the centre now.”  He huffed in frustration, hanging up the phone only to pick it up again, talking to the communications officer again, “Keep trying, connect me as soon as you have someone on the line.”  He hung up the phone and stalked back to his chair, pulling the pad and pen towards him and began scribbling down equations and diagrams, the world around him fading away as his concentrations focused on his work.

Before John could join him the second phone rang, Rodney carried on oblivious.  John turned back to the desk and picked up the phone, the commander of the nearest base introduced himself.  “Hello,” John greeted, getting straight to business, “This is the Secretary of Defence.  I need your planes in the air and fully loaded.  There is a potential explosion of mass destruction.  We are looking at other options but a firing solution maybe our only option.  I’ll have them send you the coordinates and the codes to authorise firing on American soil against civilians.  They’ll also give you a number to contact me on should you need anything else.  Have you understood my request?”

At the commanders stunned, “Yes, Sir,” John added, “I hope this is just a precaution, Commander, but you should know that it’s these civilians versus the whole planet.  A scientist has inadvertently activated something he shouldn’t have, when I say mass destruction, I mean the end of civilization and maybe the planet, this is not a decision taken lightly.  Now, you have a lot to action in a very short timespan so I’ll leave you to it.  Goodbye and good luck Commander.”

John sincerely hoped that Rodney would find a way out.  The thought of civilians, the very people he’d sworn to protect, may die because of his command made his blood run cold and the promise of nightmares to come

He hung up the phone and, just like Rodney had, picked up the phone again to reconnect to the communications officer.  He instructed the data package be sent to the commander and then hung up the phone and joined Rodney.  “We’ll have a firing solution in place, if we can’t fix it in time.  Do you know if there is a deadline for the firing solution?  Or will they be relying on us to inform them when to proceed?  Will there be a point where we are doomed regardless?”

Rodney looked up at him, blue eyes wide with dismay, but then he closed his eyes and seemed to swallow down his emotions, his expression accepting of the necessity to risk the few for the masses.  He opened his eyes and nodded decisively, but his eyes showed only regret.  “Yes, there is a point where the firing solution will have no effect, and the heat of the blast may even increase the meltdown.  I don't know what that is though until I’m there and can see what is happening, or if I get someone on the phone,” Rodney said as his eyes drifted over to the silent phone.

“So, this is just your average sandstorm, and not the beginning of a mega storm?” John asked, tapping the window where sand was beginning to hit the window.

Rodney’s head spun to look at the window so fast John already knew something was wrong, his face falling when he saw the sand hitting the window with force, visibility now becoming an issue as the wing of the plane began to blur. “No, you wouldn’t get a sandstorm of this level this high up, that Colonel Sheppard is your not so average end of life as we know it Mega Storm. 

John turned in his seat, looking towards the doorway, “Maybe I should speak to the pilot.  I’ve got experience flying through sandstorms, it might help.”

Rodney did smile then, a sad but fond smile, as if he found John’s comment both humorous and sad.  “I know you really want to fly her John but this is Air Force One.  When everything goes to hell, this is the military hub of their commander in chief,” he said, as he pointed to himself, “Do you honestly think the pilot of that hub will not be the best there is.  He potentially has to fly the entire political structure of the country during attack from enemy forces.  He’s trained for every eventuality.  You’re good, but in this case, he’s better.  Sorry.”

John felt the blush on the tips of ears growing hot.  Yeah, so okay, maybe he thought he’d finally get to fly Air Force One.  “Yeah, okay.  I guess I’m just used to being the guy who does the flying.  What’s his name?” He asked instead, making himself smile.

“Markham, he’s good.”  The plane gave a shudder and the engine spluttered and died on one wing.  “But I don’t think anyone is good enough for this,” Rodney added, “The sand is way more than normal, the engines were never designed to take it.  That’s the first one, but the other three will follow.  Normally we’d just fly above the sandstorm but we’re near the centre and are coming in to land.  That’s about the only good news, he only has to keep us in the air for another ten minutes,” he said looking at his watch, “make that five minutes, then he has to try and land the plane that is literally the size of a jumbo jet on a landing that will no doubt be obscured, much like driving blind.”

A disembodied voice came over the comm, fed throughout the plane.  “Brace for crash landing.”

Rodney rapidly reached for the seat harness, and began fumbling for the catch.  John got up and took them from his hands, fastening it efficiently and calmly, he placed a hand flat against his chest, “It’s going to be okay, Rodney,” he said softly, trying to sound reassuring, even though he knew from the juddering of the plane’s descent it wasn’t going to be a soft landing.  

He immediately returned to his own chair, reaching for his own harness and fastening himself in, just as the second engine failed, the plane listing abruptly to the left.  His heart spiked, adrenaline rushing through his system in that split second, as familiar as an old friend, the familiarity of it focusing his mind, as he had been trained to do.  He looked out the window, automatically checking for danger, but visibility was near enough zero, barely just enough streaks of visibility for him to see how close to the ground they were.  

Bracing yourself for impact was actually incorrect, you had to trust yourself to the winds and ride them where they took you, going with the current.  Bracing yourself and fighting against it, would only result in more broken bones, the body was amazingly resilient if you could manage to relax enough.  Not that you shouldn’t hold on to something and not that it’s possible to take a little nap in a life and death situation, but you could keep calm, focused so he turned his attention back to Rodney, and hoped that by concentrating on Rodney, and keeping him calm, it would in turn help keep himself calm.

Rodney was looking at him, blue eyes big with fear in an all too pale face, white knuckles clenched to the chest straps of his harness.  John found he couldn’t say a single word, he wasn’t in control of this situation, anything he promised would be a lie, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie, even to make Rodney feel better, not when it might be the last thing he ever said.  Besides, he’d come to realise just how smart Rodney was, and realised that Rodney probably had a better understanding of their chances than John did.  

He toyed with the idea of telling him then, in that moment, everything Rodney had come to mean to him.  Thought of telling him how his eyes were as blue as a perfect sky, how he’d dreamt of those strong arms around him, protecting the protector, how he’d dreamt of falling asleep against that strong chest, resting a hand in those baby soft locks.  

How Rodney’s eyes shined with an inner light when he really smiled, how it made John’s heart stutter in awe to see, made his heart beat faster, reminded him of the first time he rose above the ground, flying for the first time.  How just being next to Rodney was like flying in a storm, adrenaline running through his body as he prepared for the unknown, defying gravity and feeling joy burst from the very centre of his soul even as fear bubbled, barely controlled, right behind it.  How everything clicked into place and felt right, like nothing else ever had.

But, he realised, in doing so he’d be telling Rodney that he’d given up, that by baring his soul he’d be saying we’re going to die so I’m telling you this while I can and he wasn’t ready to give up yet.  So, instead he made himself a promise that he’d say it when this was over, when they were back in the White House and the only reason to say it was because it was the truth, not because their time had run out.

“Do you want me to lie?” He said instead.  Tones loud enough to be heard over the straining engines, but still softly.

Rodney looked confused for a moment and then, even given their situation, he smiled a crooked smile.  “No,” he said, just as softly.  “No, I don’t want that.  I’m way too smart to know exactly how screwed we are.  Intelligence can be a curse sometimes,” he added, the smile turning self-depreciating.

“Yeah, I figured that.”  John shrugged, “But then I’ve been in the air while people were shooting at me and I survived.  I’ve even crashed a time or two before.  Besides, you might have calculated it wrong.”  John smiled, and tried not to let the smugness he felt show on his face as the fear fell from Rodney’s eyes being replaced by anger, eyes sparking like lightning as he ranted about his intelligence and how very, very wrong John was to even suggest he’d made an error.

A particularly harsh jolt made Rodney suddenly stutter to a halt, silence fell between as Rodney stared at him, “You, you were just winding me up,” he accused.

John heard a level of hurt under the tones, as if Rodney thought John had been doing it to be nasty.  John didn’t want that, even for a moment, he immediately responded, “Yes, to distract you.  I may not have known you long, but it’s been pretty intense and I think I understand how you think.  You prepared for the worst outcome, which means you had to think of the worst outcome, I get the feeling you do that alot.  Calculate the worst scenario's.”  John shrugged, “Then again, maybe I was being honest because I’m pretty sure you don’t calculate for luck.  Luck is random, I’ll grant you, and you can’t count on it, can’t calculate for it, but you can’t rule it out either.”

The shaking of the plane had steadily been getting worse, to the point it was almost painful to talk, giving his teeth the chance to knock together when his jaw wasn’t tensed shut.  Rodney didn’t say anything when John fell silent, even though John had been expecting him to argue about the existence of luck.  Instead he just looked at John, as if John were a stranger who just sat at his table, and Rodney was trying to figure him out by telepathy alone.  The fear was still missing from his eyes, curiosity filling them instead, so John was content to just sit and look back.  If his last image on this earth was Rodney, well he could live with that, the contradiction of the thought bringing a wry smile to his face as he looked on the perfect sky across the table from him.

John felt it when the plane first attempted touch down, feeling the difference in the plane jolting in turbulence and the plane jolting against a solid surface.   He felt the plane jump between them, watched Rodney get jolted in his seat, thrown to the side, the harness the only thing stopping his head from impacting against the side of the plane, but not by much and only really thanks to the extra width of the seats putting him that much further away from the shell of the plane.  

He tried to push down the panic he could feel clawing up, the adrenaline was still in his system as familiar as always, but the panic was new.  He couldn’t help the thought that this might be the last time he heard Rodney’s voice, looked into his eyes and just the thought of that was causing his heart rate to spike.  He should have been pushing his chin into his chest to reduce the stress on his neck, but suddenly the most important thing was keeping his eyes on Rodney, of not missing one second of Rodney, and as the danger grew, so did his panic.  There was one painful jolt where they were both lifted out of their seats, their harnesses fighting to hold them in place, and John thought this is it.  He watched Rodney mouth his name, any sound he made lost under John screaming his name right back at him.  “Rodney!” He shouted, as he reached out towards him, unable to do anything to change the outcome, but unable not to try.

They both landed back in their seats with a painful jolt, John felt the plane slide, but he also felt the control in it, he froze, concentrating on his senses honed from years in a cockpit.  He’d already started smiling before the plane came to a stop, already knowing they were going to be fine.  Relief flooded his system, as a broad smile spread across his face.  They were both alive.  “Gotta love Lady Luck,” he said to Rodney.  Hell they’d made it.  Rodney was alive, and glaring at him.  He couldn’t help the laugh, the relief that Rodney was okay turning into joy at the very same fact.

“Yes, yes, we’re alive, all very good, but not really worth it if we don’t get to the presentation in time, or pretty soon we’ll wish we had died in the plane crash,” Rodney groused as he pulled and yanked at his harness.  John got out of his quickly and efficiently and moved over to release Rodney, giving him a hand up out of his seat once he was free.  A medic came running in the room at that moment, “Do you need any assistance, Mr President.” 

Rodney waved her off, “No, no, we’re both fine.  Are there any serious injuries?” He asked.

“One or two concussions reported so far, Sir, but no fatalities.,” she said with a wide smile of bright white teeth.

“Well thank god for that.  Okay, you’re not needed here, go help those who need it.”

“Yes, Sir,” the pretty medic said, blonde ponytail bouncing as she sprang away to aide the rest of the crew. 

“She’s a bit…. Erm”

“Peppy?” Rodney asked, “Yeah, I know, but Carson assures me that she’s equal to him in skill, and I know all about being underestimated because you’re considered too young to be that smart, so she’s on the staff.  I still try not to need her when Carson’s away though, I’m convinced she’ll accidently leave a pom pom in me or something, plus her optimism unnerves me.” 

John laughed, even given the situation, Rodney’s sarcastic humour just tickled him.  Rodney had been walking over to the desk as he talked, he reached for the phone, making eye contact with John and giving him a smile in answer before turning his attention back to the phone.  “Okay, so we still seem to be upright, congratulations to the pilot,” he said, John not sure who he was talking too.  “We need to get to the centre.  How far away are we?”

Rodney listened to the answer and then spoke again, “Can we open up the loading hatch?”  He nodded, as if whoever was at the other end could see him as he listened.  “Okay, cut them free and get them to join us when they can.  John...I.er,”  Rodney flushed, “The Defence Sec will join me, we’ll see what’s happening in there and then report back.”  Rodney’s flush then got even deeper as anger started to settle over his features, “I’m the President, not some kid trying to join the circus.  The Defence Secretary is fully able to protect me, and if he’s not then I can do it myself, I happen to be a genius before I was the President.”

He hung up the phone, muttering, “Cheeky little kid, who does she think she is, telling me I shouldn’t go alone, like I’m some sort of….of …..”

“Leader of the free world, very important genius, person who should be protected above all others?” John asked easily, letting the humour show through.

Rodney huffed a little, “Well, I guess I am kind of important.”  Then he seemed to shake the thought away, “Right, let's move, we haven’t got much time,” he said as he grabbed John by his wrist and dragged him out of the office and down towards the back of the plane.

“Where are we going?” John asked, the feel of Rodney’s fingers wrapped around his skin like a firebrand, making it hard to concentrate on anything else as he followed blindly, casting secretive glances to his own wrist, little bursts of adrenaline every time he saw Rodney’s fingers wrapping around his wrist in such a proprietary way.  The enjoyment of it warring with the embarrassment that he was acting like a teenager over just a touch, but the enjoyment of it won out, stopping him from pulling his hand free as Rodney led him deeper and deeper into the rear of the plane.

“Saving the world I hope,” Rodney said as he continued on, “We’ve still got to make it to the centre, and until I get there I have to presume that every second counts.  We don’t have time to wait for the rest of our team, and they would only slow down our entry anyway.  If we go on ahead with our invites we will get in and then can assess the situation while my security follows up as soon as Air Force One has been secured.”

“Secured?”

“It’s the mobile White House.  It has access to every system under my control, and one or two that aren’t, either way it can’t just be left unattended in the middle of a desert.  They run drills on this stuff all the time, they won’t be far behind us.”

“So, how do we get to the centre?” John asked.

“I told you,” Rodney said, a little frustration bleeding through, “this plane is a fortress, designed to carry the cabinet during times of war or natural attacks.  Every eventually has been planned for,” he said, as he opened up a large air tight door, with a port hole in it.  “What’s the point of a flying fortress if we’re restricted to airstrips with no access to transport.  This plane is designed to land anywhere.  We have to be able to land anywhere and get to our destination, by any means.”  He dragged John beyond the door and stopped to show him what lay beyond.  

John found himself in a large hanger.  He looked up to find amphibious vessels strapped to the ceiling, jeeps strapped to the floor, but found himself ultimately drawn to one of the motorbikes sunken into the walls of the plane, the sleek curve of the petrol tank, so dark it seemed to swallow light, his hand drawn to follow its curve, “And we can use these vehicles to get to the centre?”  He half asked, half confirmed, the familiar feel of climbing into a cockpit beginning to grow inside him.

“Take a cold shower, Kirk,” Rodney said, his voice half fond and half condescending, as he pulled John away before his fingers even touched the surface of the tank.  “You can’t ride one of them in the middle of a sandstorm, plus you wouldn’t get me on one for all the money in China, even on a sunny day.”

John hated that Rodney was right, and not only for the image of Rodney’s thighs wrapped up in tight leather as they hugged the fuel tank of these sleek machines.  He shook the image lose and concentrated on the job in hand, as he moved away from the motorbikes to join Rodney, as they quickly made their way to the jeep at the furthest point.  Rodney got into the driver's seat, while John moved around the jeep, quickly and efficiently lowering the canvas sides and securing them in place.  Rodney leaned out of the window, “Did you get the part where every second counts?”  He asked, tones sharp and quick.

“Yes,” John answered, letting his voice stretch out, slow and languid and extremely condescending.  “But we need to be protected from the elements, and we can’t do this out there.  While i’m doing this you can scoot over to the passenger side coz hell if i’m letting you drive me through a sandstorm.  I’ve seen you on a golfcart, you can’t even keep that in a straight line.”

“It’s the desert, there are no straight lines out here so what does that matter, but i’ll have you know…”

“Precision matters,”  John interrupted, “even out here, plus I've actually got experience in driving through a sandstorm, i’m pretty sure you haven’t even  _ been _ in a sandstorm before, let alone driven in one.  You’re lucky i’m even letting you come along, if it wasn’t for your brain you wouldn’t be allowed to leave this plane.”

“Letting me come along?” Rodney repeated indignantly.  “You're  _ MY _ plus one, in case you’ve forgotten.  That makes this my shindig.  You’re lucky I let you come along.”

“Shindig?” John said, letting his humour shine through.  “Did you really just call riding through a sandstorm to save the planet ‘a shindig’?”  He’d completed his circuit of the jeep and had opened the driver's door, motioning for Rodney to move over as he spoke.

“What would you prefer,” Rodney said, as he scooted backwards into the passenger seat, “Shenanigans?  Suicide plot?  Shindig is a fully acceptable term….”

John interrupted him, fun though it was to get a rise out of Rodney, they were on a time limit here.  “How do we get out?  Is there a lever we have to pull, or do they control it in central comms?”

“They can lock it down in central comms,” Rodney said as he reached over to the dashboard, “But any other time, each vehicle has remote access,” he said as he hit a switch next to the steering wheel.  John could hear the machinery lowering the ramp, the wind picking up and the sand beginning to enter the hanger.

“Any other buttons I should know about?”  John asked, with a wry smile, having to raise his voice slightly higher now that the muffled sounds of the storm outside were rising, as the ramp opened further.  “Wouldn’t want to eject you out of the vehicle while operating the wipers.”

Rodney shook his head, mimicking silent laughter in a very condescending manner, “Very funny.  There are a few modifications, but not on the main dashboard.  Last thing we need is some trigger happy grunt blowing up Air Force One from the inside.  Besides, I thought….”

His words were cut off abruptly, replaced by a squeal as he hung on for dear life as John floored the jeep in reverse to exit the plane, spinning it 180 degrees as soon as they cleared the ramp.  John found himself on a small private airstrip.  A few small but high end planes sat parked to their left in a neat little line, barely visible through the sandstorm still hurtling through at a good pace.  Nothing else but Air Force One and a little ramshackle shed that vibrated with each gust that hit it but sprung back into place like it’s joints were made of rubber.

“Okay!  Okay!  Soldier!  Soldier, not grunt.  Okay?”  Rodney shouted, having to do so to be heard above the winds that now buffeted against the vehicle.  John could feel the pressure against the vehicle, the steering wheel twitching in his hands, and realised they’d have to be moving quickly or they’d be bowled over.

Instead John smiled broadly at Rodney.  He’d actually just liked the idea of Rodney squealing and reaching out to grab him, which he had done.  One hand on the dashboard, but the other wrapped over John's bicep, and John kinda liked that.  The effect was sort of ruined though as John realised he had no idea which direction to take off in so he took the out and decided to admonish Rodney instead, “Better.  Now which way?”

Rodney narrowed his eyes at him, but pointed silently passed John, to their left then.  John gauged the winds and turned.  “Do we have GPS?” He shouted, head cocked towards Rodney but eyes never leaving the windshield, as they tore across the sands.

“We’ll be there before we can programme it,” Rodney shouted.  The centre was built specifically for this presentation, it’s literally less than two minutes away.  

“Two minutes is all it takes to get lost in a sandstorm.  You can lose a guy who was stood right next to you in less time,”  John shouted back, but already he thought he could see something up ahead.  He moved his head, trying to get a different line of sight through the sandstorm, and fancied he could see a grey block up ahead.  

Rodney was already pointing in that direction by the time John realised it’s what they were looking for.  He maneuvered the vehicle up to the wide front doors, as close as he could get the passenger side.  He went to grab Rodney to hold him in place and tell him to sit tight until he had checked it out, but his hand fell on empty air.  Rodney had already exited the jeep and had his hands on the front door, attempting to tug it open.  John scrambled over the passenger seat and followed him out, reaching him just as Rodney managed to open the door and stumble through, with John close on his heels as they reached and pulled the door shut together.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

John stamped his feet and shook his head, trying to dispel as much sand as possible, seeing Rodney do the same.  Rodney only did a cursory shake before his head came up and he began searching the surroundings.  John realised they didn’t really have time for more, besides even a shower never really got all the sand out, so he gave up and joined Rodney in discovering their surroundings. 

There was a largish foyer, a staircase sweeping off to their right and large double double doors, closed with shiny brass handles, ahead of them.  Open double doors to their left showed the foyer snaked round and probably went the entire length of the building.  There were chandeliers and deep blue carpets with tall white tables dotted throughout.  He remembered Rodney saying the building had been created specifically for the presentation, but he wasn’t expecting it to be decorated like the foyer of some opera house.  He realised that a Security detail were already approaching them, two short but stocky men.  John quickly assessed them, naming them Todd and Steve in his head as he noted the lack of military background, the proud strut, the overworked muscular arms and legs that would only slow them down while running.  Hired muscle, not expecting trouble and not trained a tenth to the degree John was, but overconfident in themselves regardless.  They approached him side by side, not a wary step in their approach and not a single assessing gaze in their blank faces.

John subtly positioned his feet, just slightly in front of Rodney, relaxing his shoulders, ready.  Rodney stepped around him as he reached into his inside pocket, with his right hand, and had his left hand stretched out to stop their progress, not that it affected their stride any.  “Easy, we’re invited,” he said as he pulled their invites free, holding them out just as the guards approached, dropping his left hand back to his side.  “I need to see Tunney, right now.”

John stepped out to Rodney’s side, keeping his eyes on the men’s movements, but ‘Todd’ only took the invites from them and glanced at them, before handing them back.  “Doctor Tunney is in the middle of presentation, he’ll be finished soon.  I can arrange to have you shown to your seats.”

“No,” Rodney said, his voice forceful and determined.  John couldn’t help the burst of attraction at that voice, couldn’t not turn to look at Rodney, wanting to see his face as the tones seemed to reverberate in his bones, releasing those butterflies in his stomach again.  

“In case you’ve been holed up in some gym somewhere and maybe aren’t aware,” Rodney continued, oblivious to John’s reaction, “I’m the President of the United States of America.  I can speak to Tunney right now, or I can speak to him through a grate in the deepest, darkest hole you can imagine, and I’ll make sure you are in the cells to either side.”

“We have our orders,” Steve said, hesitantly.

“And now you have new ones,” Rodney interrupted arrogantly.

Then the doors opened in front of them, people pouring out as they all veered past them to mingle at tall tables, a buffet and bar opening up beyond the door, attracting a crowd.  “Never mind,” Rodney said, “looks like we’re too late.  We’ll find Tunney ourselves.”

The guards shrugged their shoulders and meandered off, seeming to follow a route around the perimeter of the larger room.  Two people veered away from the funnel of people to approach them.  One well built dark skinned man with dark brown eyes in a large benign face.  The other tall and looking like a aged vampire, with white hair.  It was the latter that spoke, high and well pronounced.  “Well, if it isn’t Rodney McKay.  We all thought you were dead.” 

“Hello Nye,  John, meet Bill Nye,” he said, half heartedly before indicating towards the other man with even less enthusiasm, “And this is Neil DeGrasse Tyson, the scientist who likes to make little kids cry by taking Pluto away from them.”

“As a scientist I’m into teaching children scientific facts than I am worrying about opinion polls,” Tyson responded, smiling as if it was all just good humour, but it was not reflected in his eyes.  These two were poorly veiled bullies.

Rodney physically bristled at that, “You mean as a TV Scientist you’re better at debunking the greater scientist before you than you are making discoveries of your own,” Rodney bit out, venom dripping from every word.  “I don’t have time for this.  I’m looking for Tunney, have you seen him?”

“You want to tell him he stole your idea?”  Bill Nye asked, sarcasm in every tone.

“As a matter of fact…..,” Rodney started indignantly

Bill Nye interrupted triumphantly, with Neil looking on already smiling, obviously knowing where this was going.  “Oh, Surprise, Surprise.”  Bill turned to John, as if inviting him to join in on some combined joke, “See, Rodney here, whenever a scientist made a new discovery back in the day, would always say he just thought of that, or he was about to release a paper on that.  According to Rodney they all stole his idea.”

“Now, look here…..” Rodney started.

John interrupted him, speaking over him, “Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” John said, ignoring the hurt in his eyes as Rodney turned sharply towards him with such a look of betrayal.  John would have given him some sort of sign that it was going to be okay, but he also noticed the snide joy on Nye and Tyson faces and it just built the fire of his ire as he continued, voice dripped in honey, “Rodney is always three steps ahead of everyone around him, and is fully capable of thinking of many different theories at once, in my experience.  It doesn’t surprise me that he thought of things before anyone else, both in and out of his field, but was more interested in moving onto the next discovery than shouting about it in a paper.”

The smiles melted off Nye and Tyson, leaving an uncomfortable silence that John was enjoying immensely.  Rodney was grinning widely, turning slowly towards them with a smug expression on his face.  “Talking of plagiarists, have you seen Tunney?”  Rodney asked, sounding sickly sweet.

“Er, no.  We were just going to get some food,” Nye said awkwardly, looking towards Tyson who nodded back in agreement and they both walked off without another word.

Rodney turned to John, his expression as vulnerable as John as had ever seen it, and hoped never to see it again, but it had his undivided attention as Rodney rung his hands and stuttered in a quiet voice, “Er, thank you.  I don’t think anyone has ever done that for me before.  It means, I can’t really find the words, but erm….thank you?”

John reached out and laid a hand on Rodney’s shoulder, lowering his face so he could make eye contact with Rodney’s dropped gaze, “I didn’t say anything I didn’t believe, Rodney.  Now how about we get back to saving the planet?”

Rodney visibly straightened, determination filling his features, “Right, we’ve wasted enough time.  Let’s go look on stage, maybe he’s still in there.  Is it me, or have they got the air conditioning turned up too high?” he said, with a little shiver, as he turned to go in hunt of Tunney.

John agreed, it was starting to feel a little chilly, but they had more important things to worry about and he followed Rodney’s lead, figuring he had been to these things before and had a better idea where the lead speaker would be.  They went through the double doors with the brass handles, walking into the dark theatre, now bereft of people.  The soft lighting of the stage and subdued guide lights of the stairs the only illumination, the rest of the theatre plunged into darkness.  It took a while for his eyes to adjust after the brightness of the atrium outside.

Rodney had paused, taking in his surroundings, most likely allowing time for his eyes to adjust too.  When he moved towards the stage, John followed him, surveying the theatre as he went, looking for any movement that might be their quarry.  Rodney made his way straight to the side of the stage and up the steps to gain access to the stage.  John was quite surprised how much he seemed to be able to find his way around, but when he thought about it he reasoned that his previous experience as a scientist and no doubt speaker, coupled with the public appearances as President, must have given him quite the experience.

John followed him up the steps and, after giving the stage a quick and sweeping glance, moved between the even darker side curtains in his wake.  The lights were on back here, blocked previously from sight by the heavy stage curtains.  Two people were half in and half out of one of the rooms, Rodney already bearing down on them.  John took in their appearance as he followed behind.  The nearest was the taller of the two, and the older.  Dressed in a dull grey suit, very nonplussed, as he turned towards Rodney with nothing but curiosity on his face.

The shorter man however, with short blonde fly away hair and dark blue eyes, was watching Rodney’s approach with dawning horror and even started sliding away through the doorway.  “Tunney!  Don’t you dare skulk away, you little thief!”  Rodney barked, freezing the man where he stood.  There was a split second where fear warred with anger, all to be replaced by faked indignation as ‘Tunney’ obviously decided he’d try and bluff his way out of this.

“Thief?  How dare you McKay!” he said as he puffed himself like a peacock ruffling his feathers, but the fear remained barely hidden in his eyes and it was obvious to John that Tunney was blatantly lying.  

His colleague seemed to think so too, “Is there something I need to know, Malcolm?”

Tunney turned his attention on his colleague, seeming thankful for the chance to pretend Rodney wasn’t there.  “No, there is nothing.  Rodney here doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Oh, I don’t know that you stole my Sister's theory, a theory that she never finished, and the alternative matter bridge, in it’s current state, is capable of ending civilization?  I think you’ll find I know more about the matter bridge than you do.  Just please tell me you haven’t turned it on yet.”

Tunney pushed himself up, trying to make himself taller and intimidating, as indignation became the prominent emotion, “What if I have?  IT works, I worked the numbers myself.”

“So you fixed the stability issues then?” Rodney asked with all the sarcasm he had at his disposal,  “You can keep the bridge from drawing heat from it’s environment exponentially to stabilise itself and maintain the levels?”  Rodney crossed his arms across his chest, the challenge clear in his face as he asked, “Please tell me how you achieved that when the greatest theorist on the planet couldn’t?”

“You are not the greatest…..” Tunney started in derogatory tones, with a roll of his eyes.

“I was referring to my Sister,”  Rodney roared, arms dropping back to his side as he took a step towards Tunney.  He raised his right hand, putting his finger in Tunney’s face, as his voice dropped in volume but gained a whole mix of emotions, “She came up with that theory using crayons and her daughters art pad one morning during playtime.  She didn’t need to steal her ideas from the dead, she was the smartest and the kindest person you’d ever be lucky enough to meet.”  John could hear the love, the respect, the anger, the pain, the regret and the guilt, and he just knew Rodney had never told her these things.

“Rodney,” John said quietly but heartfelt.  His heart went out to Rodney in that moment, so much love for his sister, and so much pain at her passing.  He was once again struck by how much Rodney had lost in his life.

Tunney was at least smart enough not to say anything else.  Rodney’s head half turned towards John, the silence surrounded them all, before he took a deep breath and dropped his hand back down, taking a step backwards, away from Tunney.  John wanted to reach out, to lay a hand on him somewhere to tell him he wasn’t alone, that John was there, that he understood what it was like to lose a part of you, but he wouldn’t do that in front of these two strangers.  Even though, he couldn’t take his eyes off Rodney, and neither it seems could the other two, as they all watched and waited.

Rodney spoke silently, his voice almost devoid of emotion, monotone notes with an echo of defeat as he spoke, “Don’t waste any more time than we have, Tunney.  I’ve seen the figures, you have to understand, this isn’t just about ownership this is about the fate of the planet.  If I’m wrong I’ll stand on national television and tell them all you’re smarter than me, but if I’m right we can’t waste time arguing.  Now, is that just a bad storm outside or have you already turned it on or not?” 

Tunney swallowed, hesitantly but with a nod he confirmed the worst, “Yes, about forty minutes ago.  What does the sandstorm have to do with anything?”

“Forty!  You just had to do it didn’t you, just had to be the big showman, well I hope it was worth it because you just let over a hundred eye witness’ watch you end the damn world.  You’ll finally be famous, for about six months.”

“Malcolm? Why does the President keep saying you’re going to end the world?”

Instead of answering his colleague, Tunney was looking at Rodney with challenging indignation, “You’re not my President.  I sure as hell didn’t vote for you.”

“I’m both relieved and yet disturbed by that, considering who my co runners were. No, can we get back to the matter in hand.”  Rodney turned to Tunney’s colleague, “Who are you?  Do you have any sway around here at all?”

“I’m Terence Kramer.  I funded the project, everything here is mine, except the scientific theory.”

“Great!” Rodney said with enthusiasm, “Look, I’m just going to dumb this down for you as you’re just the money man.  I’m smarter than he is, I’ve read this proof before and it’s flawed, it's worse than that, it’s dangerous and will bring about a superstorm that will affect the ecological balance that will end up sweeping us off the face of the earth.  It’s why my Sister never went any further with it.  We have to turn it off while we still can. Please take me to it, right now.” 

The man looked between Tunney and Rodney, obviously hesitant, but Tunney’s failure to argue the point must have swayed his decision.  He turned to Rodney, “This way, Mr President,” as he walked away from them, heading towards the back of the stage.

Rodney gave a smug glance at Tunney before he followed, Tunney  glared back like a wronged sibling before trotting along behind.  John had automatically moved when Rodney did, following silently just behind.  His mind was distracted again, from the moment he heard the older man address Rodney by his title.  It had highlighted to John that once again he hadn’t used the title, and had in fact been calling him by his given name again, it’s just that he didn’t get much of an opportunity to call him by his title, and he was Rodney in his head so that’s the name that came out naturally.  Tunney he noted, also had not used Rodney’s title, but John knew that to be an intentional sign of disrespect.  Not like John at all, and he hoped Rodney knew the difference.

He could reason that in his mind this was a date, and he was here as Rodney’s plus one and therefore should use his given name.  Unlike the last time he’d called the President Rodney, this time he had made a conscious decision to push the boundaries a little during this ‘date’ to see if that spark was real, or just John’s wishful thinking.  Not that this ‘date’ was turning out how John envisioned, not since Rodney read the brief on the presentation, and yet it was the most fun he’d had on a date, and he felt as if there was something indefinable but concrete between them.  

Something in the way that Rodney responded to him, a spark that was worth fanning into the fire that John felt in return.  So he resolved that given the situation, and considering his end goal, that he would just keep calling him Rodney, until he was told differently. 

While he had been thinking this through, he’d been aware of his surroundings as he followed them along the back of the stage, and out a side door that led them out into the rest of the foyer that had been blind to them from the entrance.   Most of the people were congregated towards the far end near the buffet, but a few people had meandered down this end and eyed them surreptitiously but without comment.  They walked silently across the carpet at an angle, moving up a sweeping flight of stairs, a few craned heads followed their progress with curious eyes but nothing else.  They entered a shadowed hallway, moving into what John presumed was the control room.  It had more buttons, switches and flashing lights than a space rocket cockpit, but strangely it was all in near darkness.  Mood lighting hidden in the recess’ of the room casting a blue light in soft pools around the room, banked by dark grey walls.  The lights and displays cast their own light into the mix.

Rodney made his way quickly along the bank of monitors, quickly and efficiently figuring out their purpose, John found it quite impressive just how fast Rodney figured it out.  “I’ll log in for you,” the owner said, advancing on Rodney.

“No need,” Rodney said, with a wave of his hand, “I’m already in.”  Rodney didn’t even look in his direction, his sole concentration on the screen in front of him, the odd click and then he leant he stood up, staring at the monitor.  He glared over at Tunney, “You surrounded the building with an electrified plasma grid?!  You can’t contain the reach of the heatsink you idiot.  Why did you even turn it on if you don’t understand it!”  He turned his attention back to the screen, hitting more keys, seeming to get more and more frustrated, before standing up and looking at John with big wide eyes that held only fear.  “I can’t turn it off, it won’t shut down.”

Tunney spoke up then, “Of course it will shut down,” his words full of derision as he stormed over to the console.  John was surprised to see Rodney just step back, he read only defeat in the slope of Rodney’s shoulders.  

John looked over to Tunney to see the same frustration growing in his keystrokes.  He looked back to Rodney’s face to find the fear and shock had been replaced by resolve as he spoke, “Get hold of Air Force One.  We need to get these people out of here.”  Rodney’s attention went straight back to the monitor.

John didn’t bother waiting for Tunney’s input, he just nodded in response and pulled out his phone, ringing the communications officer aboard Air Force One.  He realised it wasn’t ringing yet and pulled back the phone to look at the screen.  He looked over at Rodney, holding his phone up as evidence, “I’m not getting a signal, I’ll have to head out front and try again.”  He turned to the other two, intending to ask them if they knew where the best signal was, but was interrupted by simultaneous muffled screams and cries of alarm.  Rodney’s head shot up as shocked blue eyes met his, there was a few seconds where everyone froze, where time just stopped, and then John was running, hearing the others follow sharply on his heels, as he ran back towards the foyer.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

Just as John was about to clear the last step, he saw a blue flash out the corner of his eyes and thrust out a hand to stop Rodney passing him as he himself froze on the last step.  He was still processing what he was seeing; a blue bar of light that seemed to be firing across their path, less than a yard from their chests.  He glanced to the source but it seemed to just originate in midair.  He followed the beam, which already seemed to be disintegrating, to it’s destination to find a person, frozen in mid pose like something out of a Batman vs Mr Freeze comic.

“Freeze lightning,” Rodney said softly, awe in his voice.  John looked at him surprise and disgust that Rodney would be in awe with a dead body not more than ten feet away, and was satisfied to see guilt and horror materialise on his face when his eyes fell on the frozen body.

They both moved at the same time, approaching the last two feet slowly and with trepidation.  Rodney’s finger reached out to touch the frozen statue, but John wrapped his fingers around Rodney’s wrist.  He felt Rodney’s pulse quicken under his fingertips,  _ interesting _ .  “How about we see if he can be revived before you accidentally topple him onto the floor in a million pieces?”  Rodney’s face screwed up in disgust, but John continued, “Visual inspection only, okay?”

Rodney nodded, but didn’t pull his wrist free.  John slowly uncurled his fingers, never breaking eye contact as he slowly pulled his hand away.  Rodney’s arm stayed airborne for a few seconds before he brought it back into himself, his other hand reaching to run his fingertips against his own wrist, eyes intense before he blinked, looked away.  He gave John another furtive glance before dropping both hands back to his sides and moving his attention back to the frozen man in front of them, without a word.  It had only taken a moment, but it made John’s heart beat faster.  He stepped back, letting Rodney circle the man alone as he watched.

Rodney was quickly done and walked over to John, but spoke to Tunney who was stood at his side instead.  “Did you notice the fluctuation in the matter bridge.”

“Yes,” Tunney said, full of pompous indignation, even now.

“The Matter bridge is supposed to be stable, yours fluctuates, I presume from the changes you made to Jeanies original proof.”  Rodney looked back at the frozen man, pity in his tones as he spoke, “I think that the fluctuations…..”

Tunney interrupted, tones of excitement and awe, which was erroneous John thought, given a frozen man was standing less than a foot away because of him, “Oh, so when the bridge makes a sudden demand on the heatsink…..,” he began.

McKay interrupted right back, with a forceful glare of anger, ”....the heat sink reacts by drawing power from a single localised place inside the containment field which, thanks to your plasma grid, is inside this building, with us!”

“Oh, I did not see that coming,” Tunney breathed in awe.

“That’s because you’re an idiot!” Rodney spat out, John couldn’t help the smile that burst on his face at that, even given the situation.

Seriousness stole over him again though, “So, this is going to start happening, random freeze lighting?” John asked.

“It’s probably been happening for a while,” Rodney said, the defeat once again present in his tired tones, “It’s just the first time it’s happened in a public place.  We can’t control it or defend against it.  As long as the matter bridge is active it will keep drawing heat and the freeze lighting will keep striking.  The only way to stop it is to close down the matter bridge, but these bursts of energy are really going to hamper our attempts.”

“And by hamper, you mean kill us all?” John asked softly.

“Pretty much,” Rodney said, staring away, his gaze on some image within his mind.  He looked like he’d given up and John didn’t quite know what to do about it.

The other scientists were crowding round now, John saw the understanding on their faces, comprehending what Rodney was saying.  He saw a mixture of interest, curiosity and fear on their faces.  He just hoped they wouldn’t panic.  He figured they needed something to do to keep them occupied, too occupied to panic, and Rodney could do with the focus too.  “You’re a genius, Rodney, and you’re surrounded by some of the brightest minds on the planet.  Maybe if you work together you can come up with something?”

“We don’t need everyone, we should get those we can spare out,” Rodney said.

“They can’t leave,” Tunney said quietly, “the containment field.  It covers the whole building.  You two must have been the last people to enter.  It came up when the bridge was activated.”  

“They’re linked?!” Rodney asked, his tones making it clear how silly he thought that idea was.

John’s stomach clenched.  “Rodney,” he said intensely to get his attention, and it worked, Rodney’s blue eyes snapped to his immediately.  He ignored the thrill and burst of butterflies that gave him and continued, “No one leaves, and no one else can come and help us.  We only have one option left.”

Rodney’s eyes glazed over for a moment, and John could tell he was stuck in his head, working through the scenarios, within the minute his gaze gained focus and he was looking at John once again, nodding as he spoke, “We have to close down the matter bridge.”

“We need to get everyone involved in this,” John made his words intense and followed them up by locking eyes with Rodney and trying to tell him telepathically.  

Rodney just returned the gaze with a slight frown on his face, but the message must have got through because the frown cleared and then he agreed, “Yes, the more the merrier.”

John clapped his hands, he felt better with a plan under his belt, “Right, you organise them, I’ll call comms and update them to the situation, they can start working out strategies.”  

He pulled out his mobile, but Tunney stopped him raising it to his ear with a hand on his forearm, “That won’t work, the signal won’t penetrate the shield.”

John frowned, there was still a sandstorm building outside, he didn’t like the idea of leaving the rest of his people out there, or that a team would be trying to get through it to reach them only to be cut off and left outside in the worst storm this planet had ever seen.

“Landlines.”  Rodney said, “Landlines should still work.  You have a landline, right?” he asked, turning his attention to Tunney.

“Yes, in the office,” he started to move towards the steps again, but Rodney stopped him.  “Explain the proof and the situation to these people, get them working on the issue, and then join us in the control room.”

Tunney nodded, moving to interact with those nearest to him, waving his hands above his head to bring a halt to the mummering.  As Tunney began filling them in on the current events, Rodney turned to Kramer, “Take us to the offices, we need to check the landlines.”

Kramer nodded and led them upstairs, he was quiet and introvert as he led them to one of the offices.  He put his hand on the receiver of the phones, but before he lifted it he turned to them and said quietly,, “This is an important cause, and we are so close.  This disaster could set us back generations.  I understand you have to call the authorities, that we have to save who we can, but can you downplay the potential dangers, just initially, just give us a chance to fix this.  If you tell them that we nearly endangered the entire planet, all our future research will be bogged down in red tape and restrictions.  We don’t have time for that, we need to make progress now, before it’s too late.  I know we need to get authorities involved, I’m just asking that you say the danger is localised, just until we are sure we can’t fix it.”

John was ready to say no, but Rodney’s silence stopped him, turning to look at him he saw thoughtful understanding on Rodney’s face before he nodded, “Okay, but I can’t give you long.  There will be a point where the plasma field can't contain it, and then I’ll have to speak out.  You have until then.”

Kramer nodded, with a soft smile, “Thank you.  Thank you for understanding.”  With that he lifted the receiver and put it to his ear, his smile turning to confusion, before pulling it away, “It’s dead?”

Rodney frowned and stormed over, holding out his hand, “Give me that,” he said in sharp tones, taking the receiver from Kramers outstretched hand, and stepping past him to tap the connection to reset it, holding the receiver to his ear.  The frustration turning to confusion before he dropped the receiver back in it’s cradle, “It’s dead,” he said as he frowned at the phone as if it was there to offend him personally.

John couldn’t help but smile at Rodney, but turned to Kramer, his face still soft as he asked, “Is there a central point for the communications?  Maybe there’s a fault we can fix.”

“That’s a hell of a coincidence,” Rodney said, gently, as if letting John down softly and John couldn’t help wonder if anyone but him would be getting the Rodney McKay glare and the word idiot hurled at them.  

He smiled in response, his way of saying thank you for Rodney curbing his natural instinct, for being kind, but shrugged, “You got a better idea.”

“Actually yes, I think I’d be best trying to collapse the bridge,” Rodney’s voice was almost apologetic, and John smiled once again, a thrill at getting a special dispensation.

John nodded, in complete agreement, “Yes, I totally agree.  You go and save the day,” he said with a smile, and with confidence which Rodney heard considering his smile.  John looked over at Kramer for confirmation as he continued, “me and Kramer will make our way to the communications room and see what we can do to fix it.”  At Kramer’s agreeing nod, John looked back towards Rodney, telling him, “I’ll come find you when we’re done and tell you how we got on, okay?”

Rodney nodded, walking towards the door, “I’ll be with the others, see what they’ve got so far.”  He paused as he passed John, looking up into his face, “be safe, okay.”

John felt his own eyes widen in surprise, felt the soft smile bloom on his face, knew he was looking at Rodney with fondness as he smiled and returned the instruction, soft and intense, “You too, okay.”

Rodney’s own face showed a brief surprise, followed by a shy smile as he nodded, and then left the room.

John looked after him for a while, sure now that there was more than just a possibility that Rodney felt the same, but still not sure how to proceed with that knowledge, and with the current situation crying for his attention, he let the thought of Rodney drift away as he turned back to Kramer, “Lead the way?” he commanded.

He followed Kramer along the corridor and down into the depths of the building, along an industrial looking corridor, with all the pipes visible, no fancy carpets underfoot.  As they approached the door, John heard Kramer utter in a whisper of horror, “Oh no.”

John looked on silently as they got nearer, looking at the ice that had formed on the door, as they reached and opened the it, they found their fears had been realised, there was ice over the electrical unit, some of the ice dripped in liquid form to pool on the concrete floor below, the live wires still sparking as the liquid penetrated to the live wires.  They system was mostly gone, and what’s left didn’t look like it would be working for much longer.  There was nothing here that could be fixed, “Come on,” John said gently to Kramer who was still looking at the control panel in shock.  “There is nothing we can do, we’d best get back to the others and see if we can do any good there.”

Kramer nodded silently as John lead him away, as they are walking back, Kramer said quietly, “The wires were still sparking, we only just missed it.  Maybe if I hadn’t wasted time asking for you to play down the danger, that might have been all the time we needed, and now we’re cut off, now it’s too late.”

“You can’t second guess your decisions, you’ll go mad with it.  For all we know it hit before you even started, or maybe you holding us back kept us from getting caught in the blast and turning into icicles, you could have saved our lives for all you know.  Besides, the best bet to help our situation is already in here, not out there.  If anyone can figure this out, it’s Rodney.  He was a genius long before he was President.  He’ll figure it out.”

They made their way back up the stairs and then back down again to the foyer.  John could hear shouting.  Someone, Nye he thought, saying “If you just listened to what I was saying you’d realise…”

Only to be cut short by Rodney’s strident voice shouting powerfully above them all, “I have been listening to what you’ve been saying.  That’s how come I know you’re a moron.  I’m the only one here with any experience in this proof and I’m telling you….”

Someone else’s voice cut in again, “Yes, yes, the proof was written by a McKay.  You seem awfully proud of the fact you wrote the proof considering it’s going to kill us all.”

Rodney’s voice again, still angry but with a brittleness underneath it that tugged at John’s heart, “I said it was written by a McKay, not by me.  My sister wrote the original proof, this bastardization of it is nothing to do with her and you will not disrespect her memory by associating this disaster with her, this is Tunney’s code that did this.”

John trotted towards them, he wanted to go straight to Rodney and defend him, to protect him, but the bigger picture was at play here and he just hoped Rodney forgave him this.  As he broke onto the ground floor he shouted, “Hey!  You’re supposed to be fixing the problem, not fighting like kindergarten kids.”

Some of the scientists broke off immediately, joining teams at other boards and pretending they’d been there all along.  John headed straight for Rodney’s team, which seemed to consist of Tunny, Nye and Tyson.  Who thought it would be a good idea putting this lot together?! He thought.

All four of them were looking like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.  Rodney turned hopeful eyes on John, “Did you get through?”

John grimaced, and shook his head silently, adding, “The unit is fried, freeze lighting.  It can’t be fixed.”

Rodney nodded, before looking at the others around him.  John hadn’t realised Rodney had been hoping so much on the team outside until then.  Rodney nodded, turning back to his team with a new resolve, and John noticed that it seemed to bolster the others, everyone standing a little taller, “Okay, we’re running out of time.  Let’s leave our egos down here while we go up to the control room and get a look at the current situation.  I have an idea that might just work, but I’ll need your input on it.”  John could see they were ready to argue again until Rodney said he needed them and then they all nodded, pride easily visible on their faces, in contrast to the grimace on Rodney’s.

John only now realised just how cold it had gotten.  Most of the men had given their jackets to the women, Rodney included, although John noticed that Tunney was still wearing his.  He even had his hands tucked into his armpits to try and warm himself up, but he dropped them as they all followed Rodney up to the control room, John on their tails.  They all separated when they entered all taking different monitors, updating each other on the data they found.

Tunney called Rodney over, “You need to see this.”

Rodney went over and muscled in next to Tunney, his eyes moved quickly over the data, “Oh the cold temperatures are affecting the containment field emitters.  I mean they’re weak, they’re on the verge of failing.”

John asked the obvious question, “So we’ll be able to get a signal soon, get the military to help evacuate the people.”

“No, the storm has gotten worse, and if the containment field fails, well, we’re surrounded by desert air.  The temperatures inside the containment field have gotten very, very cold as you may have noticed.  Introducing a sudden and immediate blast of icy air is going to create one hell of a vortex.  I mean there's no way troopers could make it through, let alone actually get people out here safely.

Kramer spoke up then, “Can we ride out the storm?”

It was Tunney that answered him, “No, if we shut down the device, the heat sink’s gonna keep feeding cold into that weather system, It’ll never stop.”

“Well that doesn’t sound good,” Kramer muttered.

“No,” Tunney muttered in return, “I’d rather that didn’t happen.”

But McKay’s head jerked up, his fingers snapping as he exclaimed, “No, no, no, no, this might be a good thing.  The containment field is dying a slow but consistent death.  It might be weak enough to actually punch a cellphone signal through now.”

Tunney nodded in agreement as he picked up a computer tablet with a schematic of the complex on the screen and showed it to Rodney.  “Ok, this is probably our best bet.”

John walked over and looked down at the table with them, Tunney pointed to the southeast corner of the complex, “These two emitters are the weakest.  It’s a bit of a run from here, so I’d better get going.”

“No,” John said, as he took the tablet from them, studying the map.  He felt their gaze on him and looked up to meet it, “You are best here, helping Rodney.  My brain isn’t up to his level, and I don’t get half what you’ve been talking about, but this, this I can do.”

“John,” Rodney said softly, reaching out to lay a hand on his forearm.

“No, Rodney.  It’s okay” John said, passing the tablet back to Tunney.  “I can hold my own when it comes to math, but I know my limits, and you are way above it.  You’re amazing.”  John swallowed, this was the closest he’d ever got to telling Rodney how he felt, his throat suddenly closing around the other words he wanted so say, but this wasn’t the time.  He moved over to a side table as he cleared his throat, picking up one two of the security radios and making his way back to Rodney.  “I’ll take one, you take the other.  I’ll radio once I get through.” he said, holding out the radio to Rodney.

Rodney’s eyes roamed over his face, but whatever he saw there he kept silent as he nodded and reached for the second radio.  Before John turned away, he felt Rodney’s hand on his arm once again and turned back.  Rodney looked him in the eye, “Good luck,” he said softly, but sincerely.

John nodded, unable to voice everything he wanted to say, “So long, Rodney.”

Rodney nodded with a smile, he turned away, clapping his hands together as he joined the fray again, “Right, where were we?”

Nye was the one to answer him, “We were discussing your idea of overwhelming the bridge to the point of collapse.  It’s a good idea, right on track,” he said as he cast a glance to the others.

“But?” Rodney asked, glancing between them.

“Everybody here thinks that it means we’ve gotta dial up the heatsink, which means’ it’s gonna get even colder…..,” Tyson started.

“And that could result in an unpredictable amount of freeze lightning….,” Tunney finished for him.

“Which could kill us all,” McKay finished.   Everyone nodded in agreement.

John left them to it, it may be dangerous but it was the only course of action and he knew Rodney knows that. 


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

John made his way through the corridors, till he arrived in the area of the complex that Tunney highlighted.  He lifted his cell, checking for a signal as he muttered under his breath, “come on, come on.”  So far there was nothing.  He walked on, holding the phone aloft, checking for a signal as he slowly made his way down the hallway, until suddenly he saw the signal bars flash.

“About time,” he muttered as he pulled the phone down, checking the signal once again before he dialed, putting the phone to his ear, once again muttering, “Come on, come on.”

Finally Air Force One picked up the call, “Harriman?” he queried.

“Yes, Colonel.  Can you confirm the President is safe.”

“Yes, for now.  The vortex is taking the heat from the area, it’s creating a phenomenon they are calling freeze lighting.  There's about three hundred people within the containment field that’s due to fail soon, we need to organise their immediate evacuation.”

John paused, waiting for Harriman to confirm he had received and understood the current situation, but there was nothing there.  “Harriman?”  and further silence, John pulled the phone away and realised the signal had gone.  He had no idea when, didn’t know how much Harriman had received, but had to presume he was lucky if he even got confirmation Rodney was okay.

He pulled out the radio and called Rodney who answered immediately.  “John! John!  Are you okay?”

He couldn’t help but smile over the fact Rodney was worried about him, “Yes, yes, I’m fine.  I got hold of Harriman but I lost the signal.”

“Harriman?  Oh, the communications guy.    How much did you get through before you lost the signal?”

“I don’t know,” John admitted, but had to add, “but I have to presume nothing.  How’s it going your end?”

“Good, well.  Sort of.  We’ve got a plan.  We’re going to overload the bridge by increasing the power, the extra pull should collapse it.”

There was something in Rodney’s voice, something that made John ask, “What aren’t you telling me?”

There was a resigned sigh that crackled over the radio, before Rodney’s voice once again, “The generator failed, it’s been running at full power for the last hour to compensate for the drop in temperature, without it there is nothing to compensate.  The heatsink generates it’s own power so it’s not affected and without the generator the temperature is going to drop considerably.  If we wait for the containment field to fail, the storm will kill us before we can take any action.  The option, the one to overwhelm the matter bridge is dangerous, it means there is more chance of freeze lightning, but it’s all we’ve got.

John heard Nye in the background, “We should warn the rest of them.”

“So, what, they can hide behind Tunney’s cardboard cut out?” Rodney asks scathingly, “There’s nothing they can do, there is no safe place the freeze lightning could literally strike anywhere.  They’ll just panic and try to get out, and the storm out there will definitely kill them.”

“You know, Freeze Lightning is a bad name,” he heard Nye mutter.

“Well don’t look at me, It was his idea,” Rodney said.

Considering its Tunney’s unmistakable sqwark he heard next he figured it was him Rodney had pointed to.  John knew full well it was Rodney that created the phrase, but he also knew that Tunney must have claimed its creation for Rodney to be able to call him on it now, so John stayed quiet, instead saying, “If it’s the best option, then it’s worth the risk.”

“Yes, quite,” Rodney’s voice responded, it’s quiet and not an ounce of certainty in it.

John continued to talk as he walked further along the corridor, checking for a signal as he passed through a heavy door and found himself in a room, no windows, just cold industrial concrete.  Judging by all the pipes it’s either the water or the waste for the complex.

Just as he turned to exit the room, a blast of freeze lightning materialised out of nowhere.  John threw himself to the side and down, hitting the floor with a grunt.

He rolled over blinking in a spray of water from a burst pipe above him, thankful this was the water pipes and not the waste pipes, he thought to himself with a smile.  As he becomes more aware of his surroundings he heard Rodney on the radio.  He fumbled around for it one handed, the other hand reaching up to a pain on his forehead.  As one hand curled around the radio, the other came away from his forehead with wet blood.  Well that explained his headache, and the disorientation.

“John, god damn it answer me!” Rodney’s voice screeched over the radio.

John pulled the radio to his mouth, “Hey, Rodney,” he drawled with a smile.

“Oh, thank god,” Rodney gasped out.  “Why didn’t you answer me?” he demanded.

“I was busy ducking the freeze lightning,” John answered, as he looked around his surroundings with a bit more lucidity.

“What?!  Are you okay?” Rodney asked, the worry evident in his voice.

“Yes, I’m fine,” John answered, not thinking the hit to his head was worth mentioning, given he was already feeling more aware.  “Although, I’m not sure for how long,” John said as his eyes fell on the door to the room, only now realising the ice ray had frozen the door shut, and the water from the burst pipe didn’t seem to be slowing down any.

“What? Why,” Rodney shrilled.

The high pitch made John’s head hurt, made him rush the words so he spoke bluntly and quickly, just to stop the noise..  “The freeze lighting burst a water pipe, it’s flooding into the room, but the door was frozen shut so I can’t get out,” John said as he pushed himself to sit upright, he lifted his torso up out of the water with effort and slumped against the wall panting, not up to standing just yet even if the water around his legs was freezing.

There was a pause, and then Rodney was back, “Okay, we’re sending security to get you.  Will you be alright till they get to you?”

“Yeah, sure.  I still didn’t find a good signal.  How’s it going your end?” John asked.

“The containment field just failed, the storms really picking up, according to the sensors the cold air is already affecting the storm, it’s already reaching dangerous levels, small tornadoes are starting to appear.  The last plan didn’t work, it just took all the power we could give it.  We’ve got another one though.  We’re going to try and starve it, increase the pull on the power by creating another matter bridge.”

John frowned, “You’re going to make another one?” 

“Yes, the heatsink can sustain one matter bridge indefinitely, but with two pulling from the same source, the fluctuations will increase, but eventually the pull of two hungry mouths to feed will be too much and the energy source will be extinguished, and then both bridges will collapse.”

“Why do I get the feeling you just dumbed that down for me?” John asked.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean….”

“No, Rodney, it’s fine.  I’d rather know what’s going on than have you talk gibberish that I don’t understand.  I was just saying thank you I guess, sorry, I’m not good at getting feelings across sometimes.”  John wondered if he had hit his head harder than he thought if he was admitting that out loud.

Rodney’s voice seemed hesitant, “Look, I’ve got to write the code to open the second bridge, I’ve got to….go….sorry.”  

“No, no, it’s fine.  Security are on their way, and the sooner you fix the problem the sooner I can warm up.  Promise me the first thing you do once the bridge is down is wack that heating up, it’s getting really cold down here.”

There was a smile in Rodney’s voice when he answered, “Sure will.  I’ve really got to go now, they’ll be with you shortly, okay?”

“Yeah, sure Rodney, see you soon.”  The radio went silent, nothing down here but the sound of water hitting water, and the sloshing of John’s movements.  He knew he should probably push himself all the way up, minimise the contact with the water, but he was just so cold and weary he couldn’t bring himself to stand up.

He’d been in the water for a while, and he can feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness.  He knew somewhere in his mind that he shouldn’t be sleeping in the cold water, but he just couldn’t find the energy to pull himself up any further.  He gets the idea that he should call Rodney, and he would dismiss it, telling himself that Rodney has more important things to do, but he wanted to hear Rodney’s voice once again and it’s that more than anything else that makes him activate the radio again.  “Rodney, can you hear me?”

Rodney’s voice responded almost immediately, “Have they got to you yet?”

John smiled at the sound of his voice.  “No, still just me,” he said.  He could hear the slur in his voice, but was too tired to try and fix it.

He heard Rodney asking Tunney about the security, heard his response that John was cut off from them and they were making their way around to him.  It went quiet for a bit, until John heard Rodney calling his name, he looked around the room for a moment before he remembered the radio.  Rodney was starting to sound a little desperate, he must have been calling his name for a while.  John supposed he’d drifted off again.  He talked into the walkie talkie, “Hey.”

“John!  Oh thank god….I thought….how are you?” Rodney asked, a quiet intensity to his voice.

“It's getting hard...harder to stay awake,” John answered.  He didn’t want Rodney to think he was ignoring him, thought it was best if he told him why he might not answer next time.

“John, just...just hang in there, all right?” Rodney’s voice echoed in the room, he sounded worried.  “The Security team are cut off from you, but I can get through, I’m on my way, okay?”

John could hear Tunney in the background, “Don’t you think we have more important things to do right now than play hero?”

Rodney’s voice cut across Tunney’s, sharp and angry, “There is nothing more important than John.  I’ve finished the code, you just have to monitor it and handle anything that happens.  I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Warmth bloomed inside John, a radiant smile flooded his face, that just widened even further when he heard Tunney admit that Rodney was needed because he was smarter.  Rodney responded in quiet steadfast tones, “I know that.  I knew that before I even came here, but when you would not do everything in your power to save a man like John Sheppard, that’s when I realised just how stupid you are.”

John felt so damn happy in that moment, even as he faded into blackness.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Rodney had been trying to reach John over the radio as he raced down the corridors and stairwells, but there had been no response.  The moments they’d shared in the control room had felt like the start of something, but John’s ongoing silence felt like the end of all things and Rodney couldn’t help the panic that stole all thought from him.  The only focus he had, was to get to John as quickly as he could. The journey to him had been a blur, something he’d never be able to recollect.

He finally made it to John’s location and skidded to a halt.  The door was frozen shut, he had nothing on him to melt it, and he was sure he didn’t have time for that no matter the method.  He looked around him and saw the fire hose cabinet on the wall, with an axe mounted in it.  He ran over to it, a quick survey showed him how it opened, and he did so, taking out the long axe.  It was heavier than he expected as he carried it back to the door and hefted the axe for a first swing not needed.

It took longer than he thought, five blows at least, just to get a small hole in the door.  Enough for him to look into the room beyond.  John was face down in the water, arms floating out wide, his body twisted at the waist so his legs were face up, resting on the floor in the shallow water.

Rodney froze in fear for a moment as he took in the scene, but the fear quickly changed to panic as he pushed himself against the door, shouting as loud as he could, “John!  John!”

John’s body didn’t even move, and he never responded to Rodney’s voice. Rodney knew he had to get him out of the water as soon as possible and shouting wasn’t going to achieve that.  He pulled back, swinging the axe upwards and backwards before he hefted it into the door.  He repeated and repeated the action, each swing pulled a grunt of effort from him.  His panic made his throws erratic and varied but eventually he created a hole big enough that he could force his way through.

“John!” he shouted as he pushed his way through the wood, he felt the rough edges of the door pull at his clothes, and cut through his thin dress shirt in various places, but it was all ignored in favour of reaching John.  Rodney fell to his knees in the shallow water, a cold fear in the depth of his bones that had nothing to do with the freezing cold water covering his shins and knees.

He turned John’s body over, the weight of his water soaked clothes making the effort a struggle, but he managed it.  He lifted John’s head and shoulders out of the water, using his other hand to push John’s wet bangs out of his face, he slapped his fingers gently against John’s cheek hoping for a response.

When there was none, Rodney put his arms under John’s body and lifted, standing up as the water ran off both of them in rivlets.  Rodney carried John over to the door, stepping through the gaping hole he had made.  He managed it, but only just as his hands threatened to slip against the slick cloth of John’s clothes the entire way.  Rodney’s determination to get John out of the frozen water and  somewhere warmer, if only marginally, ensured he made it.  He hadn’t even slowed down as his shirt caught on the edges of the rough wood, but he didn’t give a second thought beyond a burst of relief that he had been able to do so.  He carried John’s body beyond the door, where the water couldn’t reach him and laid him down.

He leant over John’s face, taking a last look at his lax features before he closed in to start CPR.  He hesitated a moment before putting his lips against John’s still cold ones, hating that it had been under these circumstances and not more appealing ones, then he closed the distance focusing his mind on bringing John back.  He pulled back and turned his head so his ear was against John’s mouth as he strained to listen for a breath, for anything to give him the hope back that was dying in his chest, but there was nothing but silence from John.  Nothing but the sound of water falling behind them, and Rodney’s own harsh breaths.

He put his fingers to John’s throat frantically feeling for a pulse as he pleaded to any god that would listen, “Please, please, please.”  

He felt the sob of despair as it formed and grew in his chest, and he chanted against it, “Please don’t be dead, please don’t…” but had to stop as a gulping sob escaped his throat.  He clamped down his jaw and breathed in through his nostrils to keep it at bay as he started chest compressions.

His wide pale hands pushed against the damp cloth of John’s dress shirt, pushing one after the other, counting in his head, no longer aware of the pleas that fell from his own mouth, the only sound in the corridor was Rodney’s voice pleading, “Please come back to me, please please.  Don’t leave, you have to come back, you can’t be….you just can’t…..you have to come back, please, please god you have to come back.”

He was oblivious to the tears that formed and fell from his eyes, just one push after another and it was nearing its final tally, nearly time for another breath when John dragged in a breath and raised his head, coughing water.  In contrast, Rodney suddenly couldn’t breath as relief filled his lungs, taking in a large drawn out gasp of air as he helped John turn his head to dispel the water.  Then Rodney had started to help him sit up, but instead he pulled John in against his own body, “Oh, thank God, You’re ok, You’re ok.” 

John nuzzled in against his chest, muttering, “I’m really, really cold.”

Rodney moved his free hand up and down John’s arms, trying to get the blood circulating, “Me too.”

“No,” John slurred, “You’re lovely and warm,” he said as he nuzzled into Rodney’s chest again.  Rodney could feel the ice cold of John’s skin and reasoned anything had to feel warm compared to that.  

Part of him  never wanted to move again, as he realised he loved the protective feeling he had when John’s face rubbed against his chest and just him being in his arms, but he wanted to move John where he could get medical treatment, and he didn’t think he could do that without John’s help.  “Well, they’ve got warm blankets upstairs, how about we go get you one of them?” Rodney tried.

“No, like it here.  Up there you’re the President, but down here you’re just Rodney.  I like Rodney,” John murmured as he nuzzled in further.  Rodney’s eyes widened at the declaration, and he pulled John away from him to look down on his face, to look him in the eye and see if that had been a declaration, or just a hypothermic rant.

When he looked down he noticed the blood first, strident and stark against John’s pale skin.  He’d been so panicked over the the not breathing he hadn’t even noticed it before.  “You’re hurt!” he exclaimed, as he reached out to push gently at the skin, thankful that most of it just seemed to be rivulets of blood and water, not an actual foot long gash down the side of John’s face.   

John smiled dopily, his fingers scrabbled softly and discoordinated against Rodney’s cheek, as if he thought Rodney was caressing his face and was returning the favour.  It distracted Rodney initially, his eyes cutting to John’s to find them glazed, but focused on him, until a trickle of blood winding it’s way down John’s temple stole his attention back to where it should be.

When Rodney traced the blood to a wound on John’s head, John grunted and tried to fight the attention, letting his fingers slide off Rodney’s face to push his hand away.  He was too weak to manage it and finally let his hand drop back to his chest.  He grunted in protest as Rodney continued to examine the wound.  

It was not as bad as it looked, but still pumped blood sluggishly.  Rodney loosened his tie and yanked it over his head one handed, putting it over John’s head and tightening it over the wound, taking John’s handkerchief from his jacket pocket to put in place before he tightened the tie to secure it.  

The makeshift bandage looked like some sophomore impression of a kamikaze headscarf, it looked stupid, but John still managed to carry it off, and it seemed to do the job.  Rodney took the tail end and wound it round, tucking it in to keep it in place, the smaller end still hanging down over John’s ear.  Now he knew he really had to get John moving. 

He suddenly remembered the walkie talkie in his trouser pocket, so caught up in events it’s existence had been forgotten, he had put it away once he realised John wasn’t answering, putting his focus into just getting there instead.  He stretched out his leg, still supporting John with one hand around his back, as the other scrabbled for the radio.  

He was still wet through and the odd angles of the radio caught up the sodden cotton of his trousers as he fumbled and pulled, finally getting it free.  He pulled it up to his face, praying the water hadn’t done any damage as he called for Tunney, hoping they were still in the control room and that they heard the radio’s all tuned to the same channel sitting on the table in the dark corner of the room.

Tunney’s voice came over the radio, crackling but legible, “McKay, it worked, the bridge is down!”  

Rodney could hear the joy in Tunney’s voice, but could not feel it himself.  Tunney’s world might not be about to end, but Rodney’s still hung in the balance.  “You think I give a damn,” he yelled, finally having someone he could shout at, he could wrap his panic up in anger and lash outward instead of in, “I need a medic down here, now,” he said, with all the authority he could muster, talking right over Tunney’s indignated sqwark.

“They were still making their way to you.  I already told you, they have to go the long way round.  They shouldn’t be far out now.”

“Well how about you get on the radio and find out just how far away they are, rather than making guesses, considering your last guess nearly caused the end of the world!”

“Now, look here,” Tunney began, “That was not a guess.  The figures made sense on paper.”

Rodney was about to respond, about to get lost in the argument over Tunney’s stupidity, but at that moment he looked down, his eyes locking with John’s who was watching him with more lucidity and a soft smile, and the words just died on his lips.  There were more important things, “I...I’m sure it did.  I’m sure you tested everything, sometimes a leap forward is not possible without the results from a failure, and I’m sure you’ll achieve your goal.  Now, do you think you could call the med team and get an eta for me?”  Each word felt as big as a stone in his throat, but looking into John’s eyes, every bitter word was worth it.

“Sure,” Tunney said lightheartedly, like Rodney had just asked him to pass the sugar.  Rodney rolled his eyes and bit his tongue, and waited.

It was only two minutes before Tunney was back, but it felt so much longer sitting in a deserted corridor holding a quiet John Sheppard in his arms.  Tunney’s voice came through crackling, “They say they are ten minutes out, they’ll be there in no time.”

Rodney let out a gasp of relief, so close, thank god.  “Thank you Malcolm,” he said, and actually meant it.

Tunney started talking, giving Rodney an update on the situation, but Rodney interrupted, “Not now, Tunney.  I have to go.  I’ll speak to you later.”

“Yeah, yeah, Okay,” Tunney agreed, falling silent.

He put the radio behind him on the floor, safe and within reach.  Freeing his hand up meant he could go back to rubbing John’s arm, “You’re awfully quiet,” he said softly, “It’s worrying me,” he admitted hesitantly.

“I was out of it for a bit there, but it’s starting to feel better.  My head still hurts a bit though, not talking is just easier, and it’s nice, like this, starting to feel warmer.”  His eyes flicked down and away, before flicking back, “So, your idea worked then?”  It took a while for Rodney to figure out what John meant, and it must have shown on his face as John added, “To overload the bridge.”

“Oh, yes.  So it seems.  I wasn’t actually there.”  John just looked at him with a frown of confusion.  “I left before the results were in,” Rodney added.  He felt hesitant admitting it, but figured John would find out soon enough.

John cocked his head as he looked intently up at Rodney, and Rodney could see the thought forming, even as the words fell from John’s lips, “You came for me,” he said, half statement, half question, with a little bit of awe.

Rodney could feel his face growing red, and simply nodded.

John just looked at him and then said, “You should have saved the world first.  I’m not that important.”

“You are to me,” Rodney said softly, as surprised as John that he said the words out loud, they just fell naturally and without thought that he had no chance to stop them.  Rodney had been fighting this since his eyes first fell on John, and he’d very nearly lost him, maybe that was why, he had no idea.  He felt embarrassed and vulnerable and half wished he could take the words back, half glad he’d finally said something, anything.

John looked at him, his eyes wide in surprise as a smile bloomed on his face, “Really?” he asked, and Rodney could hear the disbelief in his voice, but unable to put himself any further out there he just nodded silently.

“Rodney….” John’s words were cut off as the doors banged open with force, demanding both their attention as they watched the med team charged in.  They quickly made it to them and pulled John from his embrace as they loaded him onto the gurney, covering him with foil sheets and warm blankets, a nurse tended to his head wound as they rushed him away.  

Rodney found himself wrapped up in an orange blanket, and a medic asking if he was wounded.  He shook his head, “No, no, I’m fine.  Go on ahead, there are others who need your help, I’ll find my way back.” The medic helped him to his feet but didn’t leave, so Rodney insisted, “Go, it’s okay.”

The medic gave him a final once over, and made sure he could stand under his own steam but eventually left with a final curious glance back as he went  through the double doors.  Instead of following, Rodney slumped against the wall and slid down it to sit on the concrete floor.  He’d make his way back, but for now he just wanted to sit where no one could see him freak out.  

Everything seemed to hit him at once, the responsibility had kept the fear at bay but it had always been there, the fear that he would fail and not be able to stop it.  When his first idea had failed, it had nearly consumed him until the second idea hit.  He almost hadn’t said anything, the thought that he would just do more damage had stopped his tongue for a just a moment, and he wondered how many had died because he hadn’t thought of it sooner.  

Then there was the fear of losing John.  He was okay now, logically Rodney knew that, but for a moment there he hadn't been, for a moment there Rodney had lost him and that fear outshone everything else.  John, who looked at him like he was just a mortal man, who didn’t lean on him or depend on him to be the President, but seemed to want him to be Rodney, and he’d almost lost that.

He would have to go back soon or they’d come and find him, he’d have to make sure the bridge was safe, he’d have to make sure the proof was not out there for others to find and manipulate, he’d have to get back to the White House and continue to lead a nation, finally fulfill his promise to Sam.

But here and now, Rodney McKay let the tears fall, let the sobs fall freely where no one would hear them, here and now he allowed himself to be human, so when he left these corridors, when everybody looked to him, he could be the President once again, would be what they needed him to be.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

John woke up disorientated, the last thing he remembered was arguing with the medics that he didn’t need the gurney, that he was okay, they should leave him and tend to others.  He didn’t tell them he wanted to get back to Rodney.  He asked once after him and a medic told him ‘The President is unharmed.  He insisted on making his own way back.’  The way the medic said his title, like it was to remind John of it, made him avoid asking again why Rodney wasn’t with them.

He remembered the nurse injecting him with something when he tried to climb off the moving gurney under his own steam, and that was the last he remembered.  As he became aware of his surroundings he noticed Doctor Beckett making his way over to John’s bedside.

“Ahhh, well looks like sleeping beauty is awake,” he said with a smile.  

“Doctor?” John asked, surprised to see him considering the blonde chirpy doctor was last seen on duty on Air Force One.  “Where am I?” he asked, confused.

Doctor Beckett frowned, “The White House, lad.  Where’d ya think ya were, laddie?” he asked, smile on his face, but his eyes intense.  John realised the Doctor was keeping calm, but worried about John’s mental faculties.

“Well, that’s where I thought you were, but I didn’t realise I’d been out long enough to be back here with you, and I didn’t know we had an infirmary on this scale,” he said.  “It’s okay Doc, I know what year it is,” and with a smile he added, “and who the current President is.”

Beckett laughed, “Glad to hear it, though understandable.  Our Rodney’s not easily forgotten, I know because I’ve tried once or twice when he’s been stubborn.  You can never be too careful with a head wound though so always best to check, but your vitals are fine.  I’ve just been waiting for ya to wake up so I can see if there’s any sense left in that noggin of yours.”

John had no idea what a noggin was, but figured it must be his head.   “Yes, fine.  How long was I out?”

“Just over five hours.  It’s just coming up on half ten at night.  You can roll over and go back to sleep till morning, or go to your quarters once I’ve given you another check over.”

“I’ll go back to my quarters,” John said.  “Sleep better in my own bed,” he said, but really he was just delaying because he felt self-conscious asking, and wasn’t sure what name to use.  In the end he used the name he wanted to, feeling a little unease but as Beckett also used the same name it gave him the confidence to ignore that inner voice and continue, “Have you seen Rodney, is he okay?”

“Aye, aye,” Carson said, but his eyes slid away from John as he spoke, but he looked back at him, confident in his words as he said, “No wounds, just some scratches and splinters.  Made a mighty big fuss about them too, surprised he didn’t wake you with all his hollering.  I’ve checked them all for infections, bloody lad wouldn’t leave until I did.”  Carson paused, his eyes took a calculated scrutiny of John before he continued, “Almost seemed like he didn’t want to leave,” he added feigning nonchalance, badly.

John felt himself blushing as butterflies returned to his stomach once again,  _ had Rodney wanted to stay for him? Been especially loud in the hopes of waking him? _  He’d think about that later, the first step was getting out of here, “So, what tests do you need to run?” he asked.

Carson took the change in subject with a smile.  “Well, first I need to check your vitals physically.  I use technology, but best not to put all our trust in it, I like to check they’re right before I let a patient go.  Then I’ll be asking you some questions, just to check we’re both agreed on what year it is,” Carson said with a smile.  John nodded, and they proceeded.  It took another hour before he was out of there, and just got back to his room as the clock by his bed showed it was just after half eleven.

John kept thinking of the last thing Rodney said, and what he’d been about to say back.  It was so much easier down there in the facility basement, just two men together, no titles between them.  John had hoped he’d get the chance to say the words, but now they were back in the White House he didn’t quite know how to broach the subject.  Not like he could add it to the meeting minutes, add ‘the Reasons I love Rodney’ to the agenda of topics.  Should he make an appointment to see The President, declare his love in a memo.  Wander the halls of the White House in the hopes he would come across Rodney on his own and say, “Morning, by the way, I’m kind of in love with you.”  He could wait till it was just the two of them again, but last time that had been four weeks apart, he couldn’t wait that long again.

He’d been getting ready for bed, stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt.  Resolved with the notion that he couldn’t knock on Rodney’s door at this time of night, he had been trying to think up a strategy because he wasn’t going to let this chance go, when there was a knock at the door.  His heart sped up, maybe it was Rodney.  He answered the door with a smile that fell from his face, “Oh, Lorne.”  He then realised that it was a bit late for head of security to be knocking on his door.  “Is everything alright?” he queried with a frown.

“Yes, well, look, do you mind if I come in?” Lorne said, hesitantly, casting a look up and down the corridor.

“Erm, yeah, okay,” John said, curious and wary.  He stepped back and allowed Lorne in.

The room John had was befitting the Secretary of Defence and about five times the space John actually wanted.  There was a big four poster bed in a large carpeted room with a dark masculine decor.  John hated that, reminded him of his father, but he did love the big window that took up most of one wall, though the curtains were shut against the stark lighting that lit up the White House.  The chandelier cast an amazing amount of light, casting the edges of the room and the ceiling in darkness.  Lorne took the expanse of carpet to pace, back and forth across the middle portion of the room.

John had taken his dressing gown from the back of the door and put it on as he strode over to his bed and sat down on the edge, one leg on the floor, the other bent on the bedding, as he watched Lorne pace.  His face slowly formed a frown at Lorne’s continued silence, and in the end he had to end it, “Lorne.”

Lorne continued pacing as he talked, “I know, I know,” he said, and then he stopped and faced him, taking a step towards the end of the bed.  “The thing is, I feel like I’m betraying a confidence, and if that’s worth it then it’s something I’m willing to do, I’m….I’m just not sure.”

John just frowned at him, unsure what to say.  Was this a security issue?

Before John could form any sort of response, Lorne continued, “You like him, don’t you?  Rodney, I mean…..Erm, The President, sorry.”  Something cold started to form in John’s chest, he’d noticed the friendliness between them, but had taken it at just that.  Had he misjudged their relationship?  Was Lorne here to warn him off?

Lorne already knew John did, so he couldn’t very well lie, “Yes, I do,” he said warily, maybe even a little apologetically.

“But…” Lorne began, then took a deep breath, “Okay, look, whatever happens, I need you to promise that what I tell you doesn’t go beyond this room, Okay?”

John nodded, “Of Course,” he said, stilted because he was sure he didn’t want to know about Rodney and Lorne, and yet sure he had to to.

“See, he’s lost people, Rodney I mean.  And he’s taken on this role because it was the right thing to do, not because he wanted it, and he’s a good President, a good man, but he carries the weight of the nation, and he carries it all alone.  He’s doing all this for some promise he made to Sam,” and Lorne shook his head, almost rambling, confused, “Not that I understand all that, there’s something there I’m missing.”  

He seemed to push the thought aside, as his intense gaze found John once again, “ But I do know he needs someone, John, and I think that could be you.  I see him when noone else does, and he is so sad underneath it all, so alone, and he won’t let anyone in far enough to actually help him.  We all try, but it’s like he thinks if we see how fragile he truly is, we’ll all crumble.  People have shown an interest before, but Rodney doesn’t trust their feelings, thinks there is something nefarious behind them all, hell, maybe there was.  But not you, I see the way he looks at you, and I think he would let you in.  But, not if this is just a crush, John.  He’s a passionate man, he doesn’t do things by half.  If you’re not sure, if you walk away from him I think it would break him.”

Lorne stopped talking, frustrated he turned and started pacing again, “God, I’m saying this all wrong.”  John didn’t respond, still processing it all.  So Lorne wasn’t with Rodney, he wanted John to be with Rodney, Well John was more than okay with that, but what was all this promise to Sam stuff, and he knew Rodney was under a lot of pressure, but he didn’t realise the extent of Rodney’s unhappiness.

Lorne turned back to John, his voice softer than it was before, “Look, I guess what I’m saying is I know you fancied him before, and I see the way you look at him now, like you can’t take your eyes of him, and I just need to know how serious you are.   I see the same in him too, but never when the other is looking.  I was going to wait, see how things panned out, but he needs help now.  He’s down in the kitchen’s right now feeding his face with cookie dough ice cream.  

“He does that when he want’s to get shif faced but doensn’t trust himself, he never drinks a lot since that night, and cookie dough ice cream...it’s his equivalent of downing vodka by the bottle and I don’t know what happened out there, but he’s obviously very upset about something.  I’d walk down there myself, but he’d just go back to his room and mope alone.  But you could go down there, he’d stay, I think, and maybe talk, he wouldn’t walk away from you.  But only if you’re in this for the long haul.”

John raised an eyebrow.  “Are you asking what my intentions are?”

Lorne’s hopeful face morphed into a glare, “Don’t make me choose between the two best men I know, John.  And I’m technically off duty so the fact you’re my boss isn’t going to stop me from beating your ass if you need it.”

John took in a gasp of surprise, he’d no idea Lorne thought that about him, but he liked that he had Lorne’s respect, Lorne already had his in spades, had done so for years.  It made John sit up a little taller, feeling warmed inside, and that transformed to a soft smile.  John didn’t talk about his feelings, he always felt too embarrassed, vulnerable like he expected them to laugh at him, but Lorne had come here tonight for both of them, and had, in his mind, betrayed a confidence to do so, so John figured he owed him something.

He could already feel the heat of the blush on his cheeks as he talked, but for Lorne’s state of mind, he stumbled through it, and spoke from the heart.  “If he’d only let me walk at his side, I’d take that and stay for the rest of my life and be happy, Lorne.  I’ll take anything he gives me and never want to be anywhere else. The long haul is the blink of an eye to my commitment to Rodney.  I’m in love with him, Lorne, and I was trying to figure out how get him alone to tell him when you came knocking on my door.”  John stopped, letting  a wolfish grin spread across his face, “But, now, if you’ll excuse me, I think i’m in the mood for ice cream.”

Lorne smiled, a gulp of laughter escaping his throat as his face split into a wide grin, “Really?”  His excitement over the fact seemed to rob him of any more words.

“Yeah,” John said, stealing a hand to rub at the back of his neck as he dropped his eyes to the bedspread in embarrassment.  He shrugged, too embarrassed for words, and rose to stand.  “I’d better get dressed.”  He moved quickly to the wardrobe, not wanting to waste a minute more, he pulled out a dark suit and shirt, as he moved into the bathroom.  He dressed with haste and briefly checked himself once in the mirror before he left the bathroom, pulling at the collar to bare his throat and running a hand through his hair.

As he moved back into the main room, he spoke quickly to Lorne, “Best get moving before he calls it a night,” he said, by way of both explanation and apology for leaving Lorne so quickly, as he moved towards the door and out, closing it behind him.  As he shut it, he stood in the hallway and took a deep stabilizing breath, he was starting to feel nervous now.  He looked down the corridor, and then turned around and looked down the corridor in the other direction.  He opened the door to his room again and stepped in to find Lorne doing a decidedly Irish jig.  “Ahem,” he said with a smile, that grew at Lorne’s obvious embarrassment at being caught.  This was blackmail gold and Lorne knew it.

“I thought you’d left for the Kitchen,” Lorne said indignantly, obviously bluffing his way through it, as if doing an Irish Jig in John’s bedroom was a perfectly normal act.

John smiled, “I was wondering where the Kitchen was,” John said, a hand rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.  He pulled it away, indicating towards Lorne, “But, if I’m interrupting something?......” he let the question hang, with an impish grin.

Lorne barked a laugh, shaking his head in good natured humour,  “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Lorne took him through the corridors and stairwells, until he stopped halfway on a staircase going down, thick blue carpet on the steps that lead to an open archway.  Lorne nodded in the direction of the archway, and whispered, “Good Luck.”

John frowned in query, and then mimed as he pointed, “Rodney is down there?”

Lorne nodded enthusiastically, ushering John to go on.  John walked past Lorne, but paused a couple of steps from the bottom.  What if Rodney wanted to be alone?  What if he was intruding, and this wasn’t the time?  He felt Lorne’s hand on his bicep a split second before he was pushed down the last few steps and into the kitchen itself.


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

John stumbled sideways into the kitchen.  There were white cupboards everywhere, no doubt of the highest quality, with dark work surfaces and a central island to match.  The only light came from the heavy lights above the island, casting the background in darkness, but bathing the island, and more importantly Rodney, in light.  John was glad he had worn the suit, initially only wanting to look his best, but felt even better for it to find Rodney in his, a beautiful dark plum suit that did nothing but flatter him at every curve and angle.

Rodney was still sat at the island, he’d hadn’t moved a muscle since John’s impromptu entrance.  He had one forearm on the worksurface, with his hand placed loosely around the large tub of ice cream wrapped in kitchen paper to keep the cold at bay.  The other arm was elbowed on the worksurface, the hand holding a spoon frozen in time halfway between the tub and his mouth as he looked at John.  His eyes flicked to the steps and then back to John, then repeated the action once again, “Blasted slippery that last step, eh?” he said, his face the only thing to move, raising one sardonic eyebrow, with that lopsided smile John loved to see.

John laughed in response, walking over to the island, foregoing the stool to lean over the counter, his forearms against the worksurface to support him, bringing his hands together as he took in Rodney.  Rodney who thought John was more important than the whole damn planet, the thought made the smile more vibrant.

“You once said you’d tell me everything over cookie dough ice cream,” John reminded him.

Rodney’s gaze fell to the ice cream on his spoon, “Pretty sure I’ve already told you all the important things,” he said, as he finally moved the spoonful of ice cream.  John had been momentarily sidetracked as he watched Rodney’s lips slide over the cool metal of the spoon, it left behind a liquid coating of ice cream on his lips that he’d then swiped away with the tip of his tongue.  John had no idea till that point that eating ice cream could be so damn sexy.   

Rodney’s words had slowly penetrated John’s mind, and although he hadn’t been able to figure out if Rodney was referring to the original conversation, or the last one they had, he had been able to hear that he sounded weary, somewhat despondent.  John wanted to ask him about it, but he was afraid if he didn’t declare how he felt right now, he never would, he took a deep breath before he spoke, “Rodney, about our conversation, we..er….we never got to finish it.”

“Oh, that.” Rodney said, “Yes,” he waved the now empty spoon about as he spoke, bits of ice cream residue flew off to the side and Rodney glanced at it before dropping it back in the tub, his hand now empty as it resumed the same orchestrated dance in the air while he spoke.  “Look, I was just caught up in the moment, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.  I know, like you said, up here it’s different, up here I’m The President of the United States.  I can be difficult enough by myself, but with the added lodestone the position brings, to be under the limelight in everything you do, it’s not for everyone.  I get that.  Relationships can be hard enough, without the whole world watching.  It’s fine, really.” Rodney added with a tight smile.

“I just hope,” Rodney added, as his eyes finally locked onto John’s, “that this won’t affect our working relationship.”

John studied Rodney’s face, found only hope there, but he hadn’t forgotten what Rodney had said, he knew he wasn’t alone in this, and that gave him the confidence to carry on regardless.  He stood, leaning back a little bit as his hands uncurled and fidgeted against the work top nervously.   “No, Rodney, it won’t affect our working relationship.  If I think you’re wrong, I’ll still tell you so,” John said as he looked across at Rodney with a soft smile, allowing everything to show on his face as he added, “Even though I’m madly in love with you.”

Rodney’s eyes widened in surprised, his face suddenly alive with curiosity as his eyes scored over John’s face with laser like focus.  “You….you….”

“Love you,” John supplied, he tried to smile, but the nerves had returned in abundance.  He started babbling, the nerves made the words that would normally get stuck in his throat fall free,  “That’s what I was going tell you, down there, when it was just us, when you chose me over the entire planet and came back for me, but I felt it even before you did that.”  John finally managed to get a hold of himself, he took a deep breath as he collected his thoughts, and then said, softly and simply, “I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I just thought you should know.”

Rodney’s face fell into a soft happy expression, his eyes remained intense as they took in John, and the words he’d wanted to say for so long now.  “You ruined all my plans, you know.”

John frowned, he had no idea what Rodney was talking about, but he was so close, he wasn’t going to lose him, there wasn’t a reason good enough for him to walk away without a fight, he walked quickly round the island Rodney turned to face him.  As John got near he was pleased to see that Rodney wasn’t the kind of guy that sat on a stool with his knees together, allowing John to get close, really close.  He also noted that Rodney couldn’t seem to take his eyes off John’s face, even raised his chin to look up at him as John moved to stand still between Rodney’s knees, and he had felt a burst of pleasure at that.  

“I don’t know what you had planned,” John said, his voice low and throaty, “But whatever genius plan it was, it was never going to be as good as this,” and with that he leaned in and kissed Rodney, soft and seductive, with his lips he promised Rodney everything he had to give, his fingertips tracing his face, from his temple down the curve of his cheek, and sliding to his throat to still in the baby soft hair at the nape of his neck.

Rodney’s hands had wound around John’s waist, and when John pulled back from the kiss, Rodney’s forehead fell into John’s chest, John’s hand falling naturally to his upper back, hands move slowly over the muscle there.  “You make a good argument,” Rodney said, muffled into John’s shirt, and John could hear the humour in it and gave a low chuckle in response.  

Rodney looked up at John’s face, he shook his head in good humour, a smile on his face, “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can figure something out,” he said as he stood up, holding John in place so Rodney slid up against John’s body as he rose, then he turned John around so he backed into the island, crowding him in as he reached up and claimed John’s mouth again.  

Claim was the only way to describe it, everything else fell away from John’s mind, there was only Rodney, his fingers brushing against his waist, his thighs pressed in against John’s, his chest rubbing randomly against John’s as he moved in his kiss, his tongue taking every taste from John’s mouth, and John lost himself in the sensations, in Rodney.

When Rodney pulled away, John was left breathless, breathing raggedly.  “I, Wow.”

Rodney smiled, one of his honest blinding smiles, that lit up his entire face, the one that made him beautiful.  John traced it with his fingers, “I love when you smile like that, you have no idea how great you look when you smile like that, I kinda love that about you too.”

Rodney’s eyes registered shock before he dropped his eyes, a blush bloomed on his cheeks, then he started shaking his head softly, “I gotta say, I’m having trouble believing this is real.”

John frowned, Lorne’s words coming back to him ‘ _ he thought they all had nefarious reason _ ’.  “You think, what?  That I’m some sort of player?” John pushed Rodney back a step, hurt and confusion showed on his face, he knew that, he was too shocked to hide it.

Rodney’s eyes blew wide, the smile falling from his face, “No, no.  i just...it would make it easier to understand.  You…..you could have anyone, I mean you’re gorgeous and funny and smart, and….I just don’t get why you’d want me.”  Rodney’s voice had fallen to a whisper near the end, the vulnerability, the self doubt, all there in his voice.

John smiled, reeling him back in, Rodney’s vulnerability gave him the confidence to speak his heart, “I couldn’t have anyone, as long as you’re in this world, it could only ever be you.  I get that you don’t understand.  I don’t understand why you’d want me either.  Your powerful, so much smarter than me that I must seem like an idiot to you half the time, You’re well built, not skinny like me.”  

John brought his hands up to stroke Rodney’s biceps, moving onto his shoulders, “Strong arms and big shoulders,” he hands moved up to rest on Rodney’s neck, “The most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen, they’re the colour of the sky, but it’s the intelligence that shines in them that make them beautiful.  When you focus on me, with that laser like focus, when I can see the cogs turning behind your eyes, it makes me weak at the knees.  I can’t understand why you would want me, but I can spend the rest of my life showing you why I chose you.”

Rodney had looked at him in awe throughout the entire speech, but at the end he literally gasped, “The rest of your life?” he queried, voice faint with disbelief.

John froze,  _ maybe Rodney didn’t think of this as long term, maybe he was just looking for some company while he was in term, god, he was such a fucking idiot, waxing lyrical about a life together when all Rodney wanted was just some company _ , “Well,” John said, trying to put space between them, embarrassment flooding his system, regret starting to seep in to replace it.  “You know, it was just a thought, I mean…”

Rodney had put a finger over his lips to stop him talking, “Shhhh.  I don’t understand why you’d want me because you’re a pilot, a hero, one of the best men I have ever known.  Your gorgeous from your tanned skin, sculptured body,” Rodney blushed bright red at that part, but continued on, “to your beautiful untamable hair that echos the rebel in you, your eyes that change from brown to gorgeous green but never lose that fleck of hazel gold that shines as bright as your intelligence.  Your value for human life, you’re ability to hear what I really mean when I accidentally insult someone.  The fact you are the coolest man I know, and yet you babble like me when you have to talk about feelings, but can’t find the words when you doubt yourself.  I don’t deserve you, but I can spend the rest of my life showing you why I chose you, and why I never will deserve you.”

John gulped back the emotions, blinked away the tears in his eyes.  He felt like they’d just swapped vows.  No one had ever said a tenth of that to him, they’d just called him gorgeous or pretty and left it at that.  That they were only with him because he had good genetics.  They’d never described his hair as a sign of his rebellious streak, like it was something good, or even mentioned the fleck of hazel gold in his eyes, they never described him the way Rodney just did, as if he was something he could be proud of.  And none of them, not one, had ever said they wanted to spend the rest of their life with him, but most important of all, none of them were Rodney.  If he loved him before, now it burst supernova inside him. 

“I…” John started, but had to bite down on the sob that threatened to break free.  His throat hurt, keeping it in, but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then he opened them and looked at Rodney, “Thank you.  So, we’re both decided on this then,” he said, laughing softly with an emotion laden chuckle.

Rodney gave a bark of laughter and nodded enthusiastically.  He sniffed, before he spoke, so John figured he wasn’t the only emotional wreck in this kitchen.  “So, what happens now?” he asked.

Rodney suddenly looked shy, “We won’t be able to keep this secret, not with the amount of people in the White House.  The whole world will be watching us, are you sure you’re ready for that?”

John smiled, “I’d rather face down rabid dogs for you, but I figure I can stand it.  I don’t want to walk away, and I don’t want to wait till you’re free from this, I don’t want you to give up this for me, so I’ll take whatever comes with you, as long as it come with you.”

Rodney smiled, “The best man I know,” he repeated softly as he leant in for a soft kiss.  The his gaze turned intense, heated in a way John had not experienced before today, it made his heart gallop in his chest, made his skin prickle with heat and anticipation as Rodney continued, “I figure if everyone’s going to find out soon enough, then why wait, why take it slow.”  Rodney paused, and then stuck out his chin, something John already knew was a bluff against a potential hit, as he continued, “ I say I take you to bed, if you’ll let me.”

John froze,  _ having sex, here, in the White House _ .  That was like having sex with your family in the next room.  He worked with most of the people here, interacted with them on a regular basis.  They would be seen, everyone would know he spent the night with Rodney, with the President for fucks sake.  He’d passed five people on his way down here, who knows who he’d meet on the way back, or leaving in the morning.  The thought that they’d all know initially filled him with terror.

Rodney started to pull away from him, bringing John’s focus back to him.  He looked down at Rodney’s face to see he’d lowered his face but now raised it up again to look John in the face, “It’s okay,” he said, “We’ll take it slow…..unless….you're having second thoughts about the whole thing.”  Rodney’s eyes were wide and more scared than when he faced down the alien, but he shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, started to pull away from John, half turning away as he did so, but his face still showed the truth he tried to hide, John pulling away from him emotionally was killing Rodney.

“No, no, I’m really not.” John said, as he tugged Rodney back in.  One hand left Rodney’s hip to rub at his own neck, a reflex he just couldn’t stop when embarrassment took hold, “I don’t normally talk about this, but I’m a very private person, the thought that everyone will know things that normally only you or I would know, it’s difficult for me,” he pulled his hand from his own neck, moving it to Rodney’s, his fingertips into Rodney’s hairline, “but it’s not impossible.  I’ll always react negatively, but if you give my head a chance to catch up, it will always,” he looked straight into Rodney’s eyes, “Always,” he stressed, “be worth it.  I can’t change who I am, but I can choose to ignore it, for you.”

Rodney shook his head softly, then turned his head and kissed the palm of John’s hand that had rested against his neck.  “I’ll never deserve you.”

John used his thumb to push at Rodney’s chin, pushing his face up to he could kiss him lightly on the lips, “I’m kinda hoping we’ve done enough talking so I never have to talk about feelings again, but as for deserving me?  I hope eventually you can see yourself the way I see you, that eventually you’ll realise it’s me who doesn’t deserve you.”

“We could spend the rest of our lives arguing who is the luckier out of us, I hope you always think it’s you, that I don’t fuck this up;  Because, I will always know it’s me.  Now, how about we just agree to disagree on that point for now.  How do you want to move forward from here?  I’ll go at your speed,” Rodney said earnestly.

John smiled, his gaze turned heated, “ I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it before but my two favourite things in the world are Ferris Wheels, and going 200mph,” he brushed a thumb over Rodney’s cheek, “Well, up to now they were anyway.”

“200mph, eh?” Rodney asked with a smile, the gaze of lust sliding onto his face.

John just nodded, felt the smile on his own face grow.

“So, we should probably go ….upstairs?” Rodney said, the slight query present in his tones.

“Well, it is late,” John said with a smile, “I think we should definitely go to bed,” he said, his hand rubbing softly at Rodney’s neck.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Rodney smiled, his expression turned shy as his right hand slid down John’s arm to take his hand in his, he turned at walked slowly away, as if he thought John would pull away.  John had no intention of it, he intended to follow Rodney for the rest of his life, starting right now.

John caught up to walk beside Rodney, their hands still clasped between them.  They cast each other shy but heated looks as they made their way upstairs, and John couldn’t help quick furtive glances towards their entwined hands.  It was crazy, they were on their way to have sex for the first time, but all John could think about was how well their hands fit together, how feeling Rodney’s fingers wrapped around his hand made his heart beat faster, made his skin tingle, made his smile broader.  He could feel the blush on his cheeks at such mushy thoughts, but he couldn’t stop the pleased feeling it gave him.

They turned a corner of a long corridor and encountered their first person, a housekeeper.  John saw her glance down at their hands, saw her eyes blown wide in surprise before she averted her gaze to look straight ahead.  He felt his whole body tense up and swallowed down the lump of irrational panic in his throat, he felt Rodney glance at him and then start to slip his hand free.   He was grateful, till he realised that Rodney was doing it just for him, hiding their relationship for him.  He’d spent years in the military hiding who he was and hating it, yet here he was, with no reason for it except his own fears of what other people would think, like he was ashamed. 

He took a deep breath, and stood a little taller as he carried on walking next to Rodney, as he reached that little bit further, slipping their hands back together before Rodney could pull his hand all the way free, and then he gripped a little tighter.  There was a gasp from Rodney, who looked down at their hands in wonder, before he glanced up at John.  It was just a glance, but when Rodney looked ahead again, he was walking with an added spring in his step and a smile on his face.  John resolved, no matter what happened, he’d never hide from anyone again.  He was with Rodney he decided, all the way no matter who was watching.

It seemed to take forever for the housekeeper to reach them, John’s heart beating in his chest like a caged gorilla the whole time, but when she passed them, she turned and acknowledged each of them with a respectful nod of her head and a small smile.  There was no smuttiness in it, no disgust, just kindness and John felt himself relax as he nodded back, the small formal smile he planned on breaking out into a big grin.

It felt right, the smile, to show how happy he was to be with Rodney and just like that something switched inside.  He’d spent weeks wanting to be right here, maybe even years given how smitten he’d been with just the first image of Rodney all those years ago, so to hell who knew it, he’d revel in it everyday, and to hell who was watching.

He was so caught up in his own revelation that he didn’t realise Rodney had stopped till he felt the tension in his arm as it was pulled taut, with only Rodney’s hand to hold him steady.  He looked back to find Rodney in front of a door, just like all the others, but with the shy look on Rodney’s face he knew this was the President’s suite.

He turned and took a step back towards Rodney, still holding hands, as Rodney said, “Are you sure?”

John hated that he was the one to make Rodney doubt this, he nodded and leaned in to kiss Rodney, hoping he understood that by kissing him out here in the corridor where anyone could see, that he was more than okay.  Rodney nodded enthusiastically when they broke apart, taking a deep breath, “Okay.”

With that he opened the door and led John in, his actions hesitant and slow.  John allowed the slow speed so he could shut the door behind him, but then took action, leading Rodney over to the bed.  His hesitancy had made Rodney think that John could choose, when he didn’t have a choice at all.  It was Rodney and everything he was, and everything that came with him or nothing, and nothing was not an option.  He’d fix that, bit by bit, he’d make sure Rodney knew that he had spoken honestly earlier when he said he could stand anything as long as it meant he had Rodney.

They stood next to the bed, the back of Rodney’s shins rested against the frame, and John faced him, crowded in against him.  He ran his hands over Rodney’s clothed biceps.  “This suits kind of contradictory, you know.” John said.

Rodney looked down at himself quizzically, and maybe a little hurt, “I always thought it was alright,” he said a little defensively.

“Oh it’s more than alright,” John said.  “You look gorgeous in it and I’d like to see you in it more often, which is why it’s contradictory, because when I see you in it, I get a deep deep need to see you out of it as quickly as possible.”  As he spoke the last few words, he moved his hands to the lapels, pushing his hands underneath them to push the jacket of Rodney’s shoulders as he leant in for a heated kiss.

Rodney smiled into the kiss, a small huff of laughter, barely heard as he shook the jacket off his arms, letting it fall onto the bed behind him.  As they separated from the kiss, Rodney’s gaze raked over John’s body, “I feel that way about everything you wear,” Rodney said breathlessly as he reached out and pushed John’s jacket aside to gain access to the shirt, then he began to slowly undo the buttons.

John pulled his jacket wide, giving Rodney access, as he pulled it back and shook the jacket off his shoulders to throw it at the foot of the bed.  All the while, his eyes followed the lines of Rodney’s arms and into his shoulders, too distracted to realise what Rodney was up to until he felt Rodney’s palm against his chest, sliding under the silkiness of the black shirt to brush over a nipple.  John gasped, the sensation of skin against skin sending electrical pulses all over his body, before he looked down at Rodney.  

He expected Rodney to be looking at his face, but Rodney was intent on John’s chest, watching his own hand slide over the hair and skin, with the silken material stroking over the back of his hand.  Rodney’s face was so intense, his gaze fully focused in rapture that John couldn’t take his eyes off him for a while, and when he did it was to watch Rodney’s hand slide behind the silk shirt, and then back out into the open air, visible once again.  

The sensations against John’s skin changing from the coarse skin of Rodney’s hand as he moved over John’s chest, and back to the soft silken cloth falling back into place against his skin as Rodney’s hand moved to another position.  John grew hard at the sight, it felt erotic and overpowering, his breathing became erratic as he watched and wallowed in the visual and physical sensations.  “Jesus,” he gasped, breathless, as he stepped back out of Rodney’s reach.

Rodney immediately looked up at his face, worry that he’d done something wrong.  “One day we’ll have to see if I can come from that alone,” John said, smiling wolfishly when Rodney’s hand sprung to push against his own dick, to curb his own reaction at John’s words.  “For now, for tonight, I want to lie down with you so we’re going to get undressed separately and get into bed separately, and then I’m going to explore every part of you I can reach before we lose control, okay?”

“Jesus,” Rodney swore, pressing harder against his own dick.  “Yeah, yeah, you’re probably right,” Rodney agreed, but didn’t move, his eyes raking over John’s chest again.

John wanted to move towards him, like a moth to the flame and heedless of the danger, but the thought of Rodney’s body pressed against him from head to toe won out and he moved away, around the other side of the bed.  They undressed in silence, watching each other peel away the clothes, revealing the flesh underneath.  Rodney’s eyes still glued to John’s chest, raked down over his abdomen as he removed his shirt.  

Rodney pulled his own shirt off, muscles bunching as he tugged at the sleeves and John froze, swallowing hard, this time putting pressure on his own cock, as his eyes took in the muscle of Rodney’s biceps.  Rodney seemed a little shocked at his reaction, but it soon gave way to lust as his gaze turned heated he reached for the button on  his trousers and John tore his eyes away from his, now undressing with haste.  Pushing his boxers and trousers down with haste, as he bent a knee to raise his foot and tug the sock off, repeating the action with the other.  

As he reached to pull the duvet off he looked over at Rodney and froze again, his eyes taking in the sight.  Rodney was well built, pale skin that shone in the light.  Powerful thighs, strong arms, his chest broad and sparse with pink nipples raised, his dick full and straight.  John had to swallow as his mouth literally drooled at the sight.  The errant thought entered his head that everytime he saw him dressed, he’d know, underneath those thin layers was this body waiting for him, and his own dick became even harder at the knowledge.

Rodney, oblivious had climbed under the duvet, now looking up at John with wide lust filled eyes, covering up his body.  John changed his grip on the duvet and instead of climbing underneath it he threw it back so it folded and landed down the bottom of the bed, Rodney laid bare in all his glory all the way down to his shins.  John took his fill, “I can’t promise I won’t come at the first touch of you,” John warned as he looked up and down Rodney’s body, “You have no idea how gorgeous you look like that,” he breathed heavily as he climbed onto the bed, gliding into Rodney’s outstretched arms.  

One hand fell to the bed, to support him as he hovered over Rodney, the other fell to Rodney’s chest, just as enraptured now as Rodney had been earlier, as his hand ran across the skin to find a nipple and, as his fingers closed over it, Rodney arched into it, head thrown back in a gasp of lust.  

John thought he was sensitive, but nothing like this, like he was holding Rodney’s dick in his hand instead of just a nipple, as he twisted and rubbed it.  Rodney’s body rived and John kept working the first nipple, while he swooped in to swallow down the other one as Rodney made the most erotic lust filled noises.  In a very short while John had to leave the nipple, swooping in against Rodney’s lips for a kiss, wanting to capture one of those lust filled gasps in his own mouth as he drove Rodney wild, as he felt the full length of their bodies touching.  Rodney started to thrust against him in earnest, lost in sensation, making cum pool at the end of John’s dick.  He’d never felt this erotic, this heated, before.

Still in the kiss, he relaxed the arm that had been supporting him, letting himself slide onto the bed itself, pulling Rodney with him by his nipple, so they were side by side on the bed.  John leant down taking the nipple from between the fingers of his right hand, caressing it with his tongue.  Rodney’s head fell forward to fall on the crown of John’s head with a growl of pleasure as John took the hard nipple in his mouth.  John pushed his left hand from the bed to come up between then and take the other nipple.  His free right hand now snaked down and held their dicks together as he moved his hand slowly, every stroke drawing gasped words of pleasure from the pair of them, their bodies already slick with sweat as they slid against each other.

The sensations, the taste of Rodney's skin on his tongue, the feel of his slick body sliding against his, the feel of their cocks rubbing against each other, they built and built until they finally overwhelmed him.  The feel of Rodney coming undone against him only heightened his own release mere seconds later, so hard and so fast, he blacked out for a moment, his mind overwhelmed with sensations.

He came back to awareness, still panting heavily, body boneless.  His eyes fluttered open, taking in Rodney, blue eyes sparkling from within, a smile on his face as he breathed, “Jesus, I think I nearly died.”

“I know what you mean” John said, smiling.

Rodney looked down at them, “I think I should probably get something to clean us up,” he said as he pushed himself up with effort, and off the bed, “Won’t be a minute,” he said has started to walk towards the bathroom.

John had started blushing as Rodney’s off the hand comment had reminded him that the White House staff would be doing the laundry of the bedsheets, but the sight of Rodney walking away robbed him of any other thought, “Damn,” he swore softly.

Rodney turned back to him, confusion on his face and hesitancy in his eyes.  John realised from his expression that Rodney thought from his expletive he was already regretting what they’d done.  John smiled  wide, “Rodney McKay, you have the prettiest ass I’ve ever seen.”

Rodney flushed bright red, his face showing he was shy but pleased with John’s compliment.  “Well, I think it’s the first time it’s been called ‘pretty’ but it has been mentioned before,” Rodney said, turning back to the bathroom.  John could tell by the change in his step that Rodney was a lot more self-conscious about his beautiful ass being on display this time.  John didn’t care, he just watched the round globes wobble softly as Rodney walked and swore to himself he would hold out long enough next time that he could at least get his hands on those cheeks, if nothing else.

Rodney came out of the bathroom all cleaned up, damp skin sparkling in the light, with a damp washcloth that was obviously for John.  With the quilt still down the bottom of the bed, John was basically bare for all to see, so he decided to just go with it and raised his arms, putting his hands behind his head as he rolled over onto his back.  Rodney huffed a laugh at him as he crawled across the bed towards him.  “Oh, so you’re going to let me wipe you down like some handmaiden, that’s very generous of you,” Rodney joked, but his expression was fond and his eyes raked John’s body slowly but ardently as he wiped down John’s torso.

John smiled, “Well, the President is here to serve the people.”

“Oh is that right,” Rodney said.  “Pretty sure it’s their prosperity and safety I’m supposed to look after, not their cum covered bellies.”  He sounded gruff, but his eyes sparkled with a challenge and his lopsided smile was relaxed and easy.

John continued, “And you have to be nice to your voters, and I voted for you so you have to be nice to me.”

Rodney’s smile dropped off his face, surprise replaced it as he took the washcloth away, his eyes now showing the calculations going on in his head when Rodney was thinking about a problem.  Rodney returned back to the bed without a word and climbed in, snuggling into John’s chest.  John wasn’t quite sure what to do about the quiet, but he pulled one hand out from under his own head and wrapped it around Rodney’s shoulders, his hand rubbing along Rodney’s bicep.

“You voted for me?” Rodney asked, his voice quiet and muffled.

“Yeah,” John said, warily and waited.

“Why’d you vote for me?” Rodney asked, John could tell he was going for casual but he missed by whole galaxies.

John paused, worried he’d say something that could turn all he’d just gained on its head.  He had no idea what Rodney wanted to hear, so he decided to go with the truth, “Because when I looked at you I thought there’s a man I can trust.  Because I liked your eyes, I could see intelligence and cunning in them, but I could see you were an angry man too, and I thought maybe you might just be angry enough to make a difference.  I’ve seen many good men go into politics with ideals, only to be swayed by money and power, or to be bogged down in red tape.  You already had money and power, you were doing it for the right reasons and you were angry enough and strong enough that I figured you’d find a way through all the tape, I thought you’d make a difference.”  John turned and kissed the temple of Rodney’s head, half skin, half hair, as he added, “And you did.”

Rodney jerked at that, as if he was going to lift his head to look at John but changed his mind, “You...you think I made a difference?” Rodney asked wondrously, “I mean a good one.”

John laughed, momentarily enjoying the weight of Rodney on his chest as he did so, “Of course you did.”  John rubbed his cheek against the baby soft hair of Rodney’s head, speaking softly, “You saved us, Rodney.  I was in the thick of it, and it was like being caught in the middle of a storm at sea with only a thin raft underneath you.  You can see it happening all around you, you can see the worst of it heading right for you, but you can’t move out of it’s path and you can’t do anything to stop it.  And then I could do something about it, I could vote for you, and I did and you changed everything.” John smiled at the memory, his first of Rodney, “It was the stand off against Kavanaugh, the first time I saw you.  You were brilliant; and sharp as a knife, but with no malice in it, just the plain honest truth of it and I decided then and there I’d vote for you.  You gave me hope, Rodney, and then you delivered.”  John could feel that Rodney was still relaxed under his palm, but he didn’t look up.  “You know I’m not just here because I’m a fan of your work, right Rodney?  I mean here in your bed.  You know this isn’t just some fanatic fan thing, right?”

“Well,” Rodney said, sounding vulnerable and defensive.  “You’ve only known me a month, and most people don’t even like me, let alone declare their undying love for me.  You gotta admit, it’s all a bit quick, and considering you weren’t even here for three weeks of that month.  It would explain a lot…”

John pulled Rodney’s face up and kissed him, deeply and passionately, to shut him up and to show him, it was more than infatuation.  John smiled down at him, “For power and money?  I’m the Sec of Defence, I already have that.  To show the world I bagged a President? That’s not really the thing I like most about you, Rodney.  Maybe, to be with a man I believe can change the world?  Or to be with a man I believe will never betray me?   Will always honour and respect me?  To be with a man who’s so gorgeous he literally makes my mouth drool?  That’s not the actions of a fanatic, Rodney.  Those are the actions of a man in love.  I can’t explain how it happened so quickly, I honestly thought it was just a crush.  I thought I’d meet you and find out you weren’t Mr Fantastic, but the more I spent time with you the bigger it got and I tried to fight it, I really did, not because I didn’t want it, but because I never dreamed you’d feel the same way, but you did, and I couldn’t fight it.  I can’t explain my reasoning, I can only tell you it’s real to me.”

Rodney’s expression had melted, his eyes taking in John’s face as he talked, his smile growing wider, “So, basically, you think I’m Mr Fantastic.”

John barked a laugh, “That’s what you got, that I think you’re Mr Fantastic?” John asked with good humour.

“So, you admit it,” Rodney said with a challenging smile.

“You can be whoever you want, but if you ask me, Mr Fantastic pales in comparison to Rodney McKay and his beautiful ass,” John said as he pulled his other hand out from under his head, curling his shoulder as he did so, and put it on Rodney’s hip, sliding down so his fingertips glided over the left butt cheek, as far as he could reach from this position and not willing to remove Rodney from his chest to reach any further.

Rodney’s arm had been curled in against himself, but now straightened out to loop loosely around John’s waist.  At John’s laugh, Rodney spoke, “What?”

John chuckled, “I was just thinking about what you said, about moving too fast, and then it occurred to me that I moved into your house on the first day so we’ve kinda been living together for a month already,” he said with a smile.

He heard Rodney huff a laugh in response, “You’re an idiot,” he said fondly, so fondly and humorously that John would never be able to take it as an insult.  

“So you get called Mr Fantastic, and I get called Idiot?  I’m not sure this is a fair and equal relationship.”

Rodney let his head fall back to rest on John’s chest, and without Rodney looking John could let a little of the panic show on his face, a little of the fear, and said softly, “But you’re okay with this, right?  You know I’m kind of serious about this, about you, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Rodney said sleepily, “I wouldn’t have gone back on two years of planning for just a flash in the pan.”

John frowned, now he remembered what Rodney said earlier in the kitchen, about how John had ruined his plans.  John couldn’t help tensing up, a pawn in someone else’s campaign.  That’s how he’d felt under his Mother’s roof, a pawn in her games, and then he’d left to join the army and found himself just another pawn in someone else's game, but at least the second time it wasn’t so personal.  He’d thought he was done with that, when he accepted this position.  He took a deep breath, “Your plans?” he tried for casual, he really did, but it came out sounding like a threat.  

Rodney must have been half asleep to miss it, but he didn’t react to it, just a half mumbled, without moving a muscle, “Yeah, I was going to make you President so I could go back to my labs and sleep easy for the first time in too many years.  I was looking forward to that,” he finished petulantly.

The shock of the revelation, stole any residue anger John had.  The shock made him push himself up towards the head of the bed, so he was sitting up, Rodney dislodged from his chest with a surprised grunt, “You were going to make me President?  Why?” John asked in disbelief, and maybe a little residue of anger was still in there, enough to give the words a little bite.

Rodney looked up at in confusion, still trying to figure out how he got to the other side of the bed no doubt, “Because you were the best man I could find?”  He said slowly, as if it was obvious.

John looked down at him in confusion, “Seriously?  Me?”

Rodney’s face had grown serious, a hint of frustration, “You have a good moral centre, you can’t be swayed by power or money, you already put your life on the line for your country, a little too often if you ask me.  Your Mother taught you power games, but you won’t play them, unless it’s for the good of the people, not yourself.  You have a brain in that head of yours so you’ll make smart decisions, you’ll see the big picture…..and I trust you.  I thought I’d be able to walk away, guilt free, if I left you in charge.”  Rodney scooted up so his head was on the pillow next to John, he rolled over so his back was to John.   His voice was soft, weary, when he spoke again, “Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something else.  I’ll do another term.”

John remembered Lorne’s talk in his bedroom, it seemed days since that discussion and yet it had only been hours.  He remembered how Lorne spoke of Rodney’s loneliness, of his sacrifice, and he heard the defeat in Rodney’s voice.  He sounded like a little boy agreeing to face the monsters all alone again.  John scooted back down the bed, throwing an arm over Rodney’s waist as he laid his cheek next to Rodney’s, his nose in Rodney’s hair as he spoke, “But you won’t be alone this time,” he said with a soft smile, his hand moving up Rodney’s torso to run a thumb over the back of Rodney’s hand where it clutched the pillow.

He could see Rodney’s eyes close tightly, see the grimace on his face and felt his throat swallow before he spoke, “Yes, you’re right.  Night, night John.”  The voice was light, but hollow.  Rodney’s eyes opened and he seemed to be staring straight ahead.  John’s heart felt like it had stopped in his chest.  Rodney had been so happy earlier, and now he was still and so distant he may as well be in another room.  John felt like he was on the outside looking in, and he didn’t know where the door was, didn’t know what to do next.

He was tempted to kiss Rodney’s cheek to see if he got a reaction, but he didn’t want to instigate anything that would be as hollow as Rodney’s voice had been.


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

He couldn't let them fall asleep like this.  He’d been more honest tonight than any other time in his life, he’d spoken from a heart that had never been heard since his father died.  Mainly because he wanted Rodney badly enough to risk anything for him, to ride hot shot over his own demons in order to convince Rodney that John’s love was the real deal.  

But John knew himself, he knew in this bed he’d been caught up in emotions and the need to convince Rodney, he’d been able to talk about anything, but come the morning, he’d find it hard once again.  He’d probably leave this room without saying anything, and what if Rodney thought that cancelled out everything they’d shared here, would he be able to walk up to Rodney and ask for more.  He had to do something about it now.  Even with the decision made he laid there for a bit, listening to Rodney breath steadily, before he leant back and pulled at Rodney’s shoulder to pull and push him gently onto his back.

“Don’t,” John said, feeling the lump of bitter anger in his throat.  He stopped, swallowed almost painfully, “Don’t shut me out.” John took a deep breath, hanging his head and closing his eyes.  It had been easy to say what he felt earlier because he thought he’d been talking for the both of them, but now he felt like he was standing all alone and it made it harder to bare his soul, without being sure that Rodney was willing to be in this with him.  

Fingertips brushing against his cheek caused him to slowly open his eyes.  He looked down at Rodney to find his expression was one of contemplation, the hand dropped from John’s face back to Rodney's chest as Rodney looked away.  John watched, unsure what it meant and unsure what to do next.  

Rodney didn't look at him, but he started speaking, slow quiet tones, “The trouble is I'm not alone, I'm never alone.  The entire nation is there, looking over my shoulder on everything I do.  The weight of their wellbeing, their future is on my shoulders and in every decision I make.  I've always been in charge, but only ever in a field I knew everything in.  I trust in my decisions because I have the knowledge and the intelligence to make the right decision.  But in this, I'm learning as I go and I hate it, I hate that I have to make a decision without knowing all the facts and I hate what’s at stake.”

Rodney looked up at John, “I..am..sooo...scared.  Every. Single. Day.  But I get through it, because I know it’s not forever, it’s like the ferryman.  I just have to find someone to take my place and I’m free, but I don’t have a magic sword in the stone to figure out who’s right for the job.  I have to judge people, me, I just don’t understand people, so I have to do it based on the data I have, and hope it’s all there.  But, worse, I can’t walk away until I know they’ll be safe, the people I mean.  You see most people think Landry was always evil, some egomaniacal overlord who managed to get power.  But he wasn't.  I knew him before he was President and he was a good man, who thought he was doing the right thing, protecting the people, he didn't realise, even at the end, that he wasn't that man anymore.  So they can’t just be good, they had to be bone deep good, and strong and smart, and put the people first.”  

Rodney smiled bitter-sweet, as he raised his hand to rest on John’s neck, “Like you,” he said, sounding so proud and so in love that it made John’s heart tighten painfully and brought tears to his eyes as Rodney’s thumb caressed the skin at John’s throat.

“Rodney,” John whispered, heartfelt.  A single word that sounded almost like a sob, so full of regret on Rodney’s behalf, so sorry for his pain, his suffering, and so much awe for the weight carried on those broad shoulders without crumbling under his own expectations, and laced all around those sad emotions was pride, overwhelming pride and of course love.  John had no words, so he fell down beside Rodney and scooped him up in his arms and pulled Rodney to his chest.  Rodney’s hands gripped at John’s back as he laid soft kisses in Rodney’s baby soft hair until they came to rest and John turned his face so his cheek lay against the crown of Rodney’s head.  They lay like that for a while, entwined in each other in silence.

John’s mind had drifted to the problem at hand, he had hoped to find a solution.  On the one hand he’d wanted Rodney all to himself, after all who would willingly want to share their lover with the world.  But, on the other, John truly did think Rodney had been the best President the country had ever had, to take Rodney away from them was like disarming a country and leaving a tyrant in charge.  It just felt wrong and that was just one half of the puzzle, it wasn't just about should Rodney go or should he stay, but if he goes then who should take his place.  John understood what Rodney had tried to say, that even a good person can be corrupted, or led astray by those around him.  

Rodney had taken the position for all the wrong reasons, but he’d been smart and strong enough to know where the dangers were and to remove them.  Even now, only partly through his term, he could hand the country over to someone and they would at least have a chance to continue the improvements he had made.  But, they had to be fundamentally good, like Rodney, and smart and strong enough not to let those dangers rise like a black phoenix from the blackened embers Rodney had made of them.  Although John was beginning to suspect that Rodney didn’t realise how good a person he really was.  

He relived the shock he felt when Rodney made it clear what type of man he thought John was, it still shocked him to the core.  Rodney had promoted John to Secretary of Defence so he could then become President, President for fucks sake.  It blew his mind, knowing that it had nothing to do with their mutual attraction and all to do something Rodney saw in him, even after he met him.  Rodney had described the kind of man he needed, and he’d thought John was capable of being that man.

John considered doing what Rodney wanted, but it just wasn't in him to be President.  Sure, Rodney was right, he did have a massive protective streak, but it wasn’t so much he was a born leader but more to do with the fact he was a man of action.  He had to act, and he’d seen Rodney in dangerous situations, he’d seen people gather round to protect him, John amongst them.  Rodney had managed to take care of himself, but John knew in most cases it was other people putting their life on the line for the President, and the President being taken somewhere safe at the earliest possible moment.

The thought of having to sit in a room doing nothing while other people tried to take down the enemy and protect him, people dying for him outside that room, it’s just not something he could do.  He was more like Lorne, he’d rather take the bullet than have someone take it for him.  So, no, he just couldn't do it.

So, who could.  John wasn't stupid, he knew part of the reason he’d made a good candidate was due to his service, the people loved a soldier, doubly so if he was a hero.  So, given John’s field of expertise he started going through possible candidates, the generals he had met, the people he had served with, but Rodney was right, when you were looking for such particular traits you realise that not everyone was capable.  Until one name entered into his mind.

John stiffened in shock, _could it be?_  He ran through the criteria, not only did he tick all the boxes, but he was a hero in the eyes of the people, a smile spread across John’s face.  The perfection of revenge began as an evil chuckle, which just got louder and louder and more uncontrollable.  Rodney had raised himself up, a hand either side of John’s body, as he pulled himself up to look into John’s face with confusion.  John had trouble seeing his expression clearly as tears of laughter began to form in his eyes.

But, John could see the frown on his features as he asked, “What?  What’s so funny?”

He sounded aggrieved and John patted clumsily at his shoulder, trying to console him but not quite able to stop laughing.

Rodney gave a half chuckle, laughing along even if he didn't know why, his expression fond as he looked on John.   “I have to admit it’s nice watching you laugh like this, but it’s a little bit weird when I don’t know why you're laughing.”  Rodney gave John a playful shake, “I'm the President you know, I can order someone to come and shoot you in the leg, if you’re having trouble gaining control?”

John’s laughter had settled down to a slow relaxed chuckle.  “Lorne,” John said, thinking of all the times over the last few months Lorne had wound him up about his ‘crush’ and John had told him he’d get him back one day, and how perfect this was.  It was something good for his friend, but the thought of Rodney talking him into it, was perfect.

“Yes, Lorne,” Rodney said with exaggerated patience.  “He would come in and shoot you in the leg if I asked him.”

“No, he wouldn't,” John said, the last of the laughter leaving him as he shook his head, knowing Lorne would never shoot an unarmed man.  Tackle him to the ground and make him regret getting up that morning, sure, but not shoot.  John raised a hand, stroking over Rodney’s cheek above him, humour still in his smile as he looked up at Rodney, “But, if you took the time to figure out what you needed to say, I think you might just be able to talk him into... becoming President.”  John raised a challenging eyebrow, and waited for Rodney to get it.

Rodney frowned down at him, then he stilled as he understood, then his face turned questioning.

“Think about it,” John said, ignoring the glare Rodney threw at him, taking the slight as a slur to his intelligence, and carried on, “He’s an ex soldier, he’s good looking, he’s a good, good man and,” John dragged out the last word, enjoying teasing Rodney, plus this was his favourite bit, “the people already love him.”

“They do?” Rodney asked, obviously unaware.

John laughed softly, shaking his head.  For all his ego, Rodney had no idea how truly amazing he was, so John explained, really slowly so he could be as annoying as possible, “The people love him because he saved you, “ John said, poking Rodney gently in the chest, “and the people love you,” John said, with another prod to Rodney’s chest, “Therefore, they love the man that saved you.”  

John stopped, he hadn't really thought about it till now, but if it wasn't for Lorne he wouldn't be here, Rodney wouldn't be here, and all this.  John felt like he’d finally found his place, he clicked into Rodney’s side like a puzzle piece and the thought that he’d some so close to losing him, to losing all this but for Lorne sobered him up.

“Really?” Rodney asked, so clearly disbelieving.

John smiled dopily, “You are loved by more than just me, Rodney,” John said, the earlier melancholy loosening his tongue.  He was here now, and he promised himself never to forget how lucky he was of that fact.

Rodney lowered himself down, looking slightly dazed from John’s revelation as he lowered himself all the way down to John’s chest, snaking his arms around John’s torso as John’s own arms snaked around Rodney’s.  

“Lorne,” Rodney mumbled tiredly as he drifted off to sleep, sounding both awed and intrigued.

John winced, it was too late to remove the thought from Rodney’s mind now.  He’d just have to make it up to Lorne, maybe buy him a beer.  He’d have to thank Lorne for saving Rodney’s life too, for giving John this possibility, maybe he’d buy him an Island, with a boat, a big boat, like really, really big, and a fast motorbike, and a new house, with a pool…….and a plane, he definitely had to buy the man a plane…....

John drifted off to sleep, both his body and his life now entwined with Rodney, dreaming of ways to make it up to Lorne.

 

THE END !!!


End file.
